


Movie Night or: The Fine Line Between Lust and Fear

by smutdouble



Series: Movie Night [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Deathshipping, M/M, YGOTAS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutdouble/pseuds/smutdouble
Summary: Melvin forces himself into Ryou's nightly horror movie routine.





	1. The Poughkeepsie Tapes

**Author's Note:**

> I have a vague idea of where this is going, but I don't have details hammered out. The archive warning might change. I tend to write Deathshipping more fucked up than sweet, so we'll just have to see where that goes...

Ryou curled around his bowl of popcorn, bathed in the flickering light of the television. He kept the volume as low as possible, so the screaming wouldn't wake Marik, but he didn't mind too much. Living with Marik made the Ring Spirit happ...ier than usual... and a happier Ring Spirit was a somewhat more agreeable Ring Spirit. Ryou's life had reached a point where he was just happy to stay up late using Marik's Netflix without getting a head-full of it in the morning. Drifting around the house in the dark hours like a ghost. He'd always been more of a night owl, anyway. 

Something behind him shifted and he felt weight settle on the back of the couch. “Sorry, was it too loud?” He glanced up, expecting to see Marik leaning over him. When he realized that even bedhead didn't cause hair to stick up that much, he gasped and withdrew to the far end of the couch. The bowl flipped and the popcorn scattered.

The flurry of movement drew Melvin's impassive gaze from the movie, to the upturned bowl on the floor, to Ryou's startled expression. Then he looked back at the movie. “Is he going to kill that girl?”

Thoughts as scattered as the popcorn, Ryou looked at the screen. “What?”

“He killed the others. Does he kill her off-screen?”

Struggling to keep his voice level, Ryou asked, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since he killed the woman from the car.”

A chill wormed its way down Ryou's spine. He'd been lurking behind him for twenty or thirty minutes and Ryou'd had no idea. He finally answered. “I don't know what happens to Cheryl. I haven't-”

Melvin climbed over the back of the couch and slid down next to Ryou, wedging him against the arm rest. “Sh! I think he's about to kill her.” He picked a piece of popcorn off the couch and tossed it into his mouth.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was Cheryl sobbing while the killer screamed about killing her parents. Melvin rested his elbows on his knees, completely focused on the screen. Ryou took the time to consider his options. Despite Melvin's current passiveness, he decided he'd feel much safer locked in his room with his dioramas. 

His eyes picked out the Ring lying on the coffee table. For the last week or two he'd been taking it off at night to be more comfortable. The Spirit hadn't said anything. He didn't even think the Spirit knew. Leaving Melvin alone with the Ring seemed like a bad idea, though. Just as Ryou was working up the nerve to reach for it, Melvin broke the silence.

“Is that her mom?” 

So he shared Marik's habit of talking during movies, then. Ryou looked at the woman on the screen. “Yes...”

“So he didn't kill her.”

“No...” 

Melvin crossed his arms over his chest and crossed his legs on the coffee table. Right on top of the Ring's cord.

Ryou twisted his hair, trying to keep his eyes on the screen. Was it a message or was he just being careless?

“Are my questions bothering you?” Melvin asked.

“No,” Ryou said, mentally kicking himself for how quickly he'd answered. “No,” he repeated with forced calm. “Not at all.”

“Good. Because it can be so annoying when you just want to sit and watch a movie, but someone comes along and... interrupts you. I wouldn't want to be annoying. Would you?”

If he knew Ryou had been eyeing the Ring, he'd vastly misinterpreted his intentions. “I wasn't going to...” He trailed off when Melvin looked at him. His general expression was neutral, but there was something pointed about the way he didn't blink. 

“What?” Melvin asked.

Ryou leaned back and tried to relax. “Nothing,” he murmured. He forced himself to focus on the movie. Maybe Melvin would get tired and go back to Marik's room when it was over. Gradually, the movie reabsorbed Ryou's attention. Melvin still made the occasional comment or asked the occasional question, and Ryou gave short answers that seemed to satisfy him, but mostly it was just a very awkward silence. Especially as the credits rolled.

After a moment of thought, Melvin asked, “Do you have any more movies like this?”

“You mean horror films?” Ryou looked across the room at the bookshelf containing his collection.

“Is that what it was?” Melvin asked. 

Ryou looked at him, afraid to ask, but too curious about his apparently genuine confusion. “Yes...?”

“Huh,” Melvin cocked his head and looked at the ceiling. “I thought it was a love story.”

Ryou blinked. “Wh-what?”

Melvin looked at him again. “Do you know any more horror love stories? They're much more interesting than that drivel Marik forces down our brain throat.”

“With all due respect, I think you're missing the point,” Ryou said nervously. “What happened to her was supposed to be tragic. You know... bad.”

Melvin shrugged. “Lots of love stories end with a tragic suicide, don't they? Sometimes two. Marik doesn't like those as much, but we know they exist.”

Ryou glanced sideways at the Ring. Melvin still hadn't moved his feet. 

“I can't believe you missed that,” Melvin went on. “That was the whole twist. You spend the whole movie wondering why he doesn't kill her, and at the very end you find out it was because he loved her. Brilliant, I think. Though it could've done without the brokenhearted suicide cliché.”

“He brainwashed her with torture,” Ryou protested, incredulity beginning to edge out fear. Though Melvin leaving the movie with the idea that he could torture people into liking him was rather frightening.

Melvin's forehead wrinkled and his head twitched back. “What, the sex scenes? Have you never seen your worse half's porn collection?”

“That's... not...” Ryou searched his face for any sign that he was joking. Any sign at all. But the more he searched the more nauseatingly certain he was that Melvin was perfectly serious. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. If I think of anymore,” he cringed, “horror love stories... I'll let you know. Right now I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed, so if I could please have the Ring...”

Melvin pursed his lips as his eyes slid to the Item in question. Then they slid back to Ryou. “Why do you need it?”

“I don't mean any harm to you,” Ryou pleaded. “If the Spirit finds out I left it down here, he'll start policing me again. Just give it back and let me go. I won't tell anyone I saw you.”

“Let you go? Interesting choice of words.” Melvin pouted. “I thought we were having fun. Didn't realize I was holding you hostage.”

“I'm tired,” Ryou insisted. 

“The Spirit really doesn't know you take the Ring off?” Melvin asked. 

“No. He doesn't.”

“And you're really not going to tattle on me?”

“I promise,” Ryou said.

Melvin grinned. “Then I suppose I won't tattle on you.” He patted Ryou on the head. “Good night. I can't wait to see what you pick for us tomorrow.” Then he stood and left the room, exiting as silently as he'd entered.

Ryou processed the words as he watched him leave. Had he really just gotten himself blackmailed into permanent movie nights with Melvin? “Bollocks,” he whispered to himself.


	2. High Tension

The microwave beeped and hummed. Ryou anxiously watched the bag of popcorn spin. Melvin hadn't come back the previous night, but Ryou had spent the whole time jumping at shadows. Maybe Marik had squashed him down again. As the popcorn began popping, Ryou pulled the large, metal mixing bowl out from under the counter and stood up.

An arm latched around his middle and he felt cold, flat metal sweep across under his chin.

“Killed you!” Melvin declared as he released him.

“What the bloody blue buggering biscuits...” Ryou cursed as he stumbled back against the counter, feeling his throat for damage. Melvin hadn't actually cut him, it seemed. A miracle of precise aiming, considering the size of the butcher knife in his hand.

Melvin laughed. “The limey marshmallow spits British gibberish when startled. Wonderful!”

“Startled?! You scared the piss out of me!”

“Oh, calm down, crumpet. It was a joke.” Melvin braced a hand on the counter next to Ryou. “I thought you liked being scared. That's why you watch all those silly movies, isn't it?”

Gripping the bowl like a shield, Ryou edged toward the microwave. “Movies aren't real,” he said.

Melvin examined his reflection in the blade, making a face. “Speaking of which, what are we watching tonight?”

“I was going to watch Dead Alive,” Ryou said.

Melvin stuck out his tongue and wrinkled his nose. “Is that a zombie movie? It sounds like a zombie movie. Zombies are boring. They don't scream when you kill them.”

“The people they eat scream,” Ryou pointed out as he poured the popcorn. 

Melvin tapped the knife on the counter and scowled at him. “No. No zombie movies. You said you'd find me a good one.”

Ryou sighed. He'd just have to save it for a night that Melvin didn't show up. “Fine.” He thought for a bit. “How do you feel about subtitles?”

Melvin shrugged.

High Tension, then. He'd already seen it, but re-watching a movie was better than an irritable Melvin waving knives at him. Fortunately, Melvin left the knife on the counter as he followed Ryou out to the living room.

Melvin flopped down in the center of the couch, stretching his arms out along the back of it and propping one foot up on the table. Ryou focused on putting the disk in the player. As he begrudgingly sat next to his new movie companion, one of the arms dropped around his shoulders and a hand pulled at the front of his pajama top. 

“Hey!” Ryou yelped, pushing the hand away reflexively. 

“Just checking. Wouldn't want any extra company showing up.”

Ryou had left the Ring upstairs this time, in a safe place, in case he needed to lock himself in his room. “You could've asked,” he muttered.

“You could've lied,” Melvin retorted.

Silence settled between them as the movie started. Ryou chalked the silence up to Melvin focusing on reading. He did bark single laugh at the shower scene, but he didn't bother to clue Ryou in on the apparent joke. 

At least one of them could focus. Ryou couldn't quite shake his awareness of the arm draped perilously close to his head and shoulders. Especially when that arm finally moved to rest on the couch perilously close to his leg. He steeled himself, rehearsing in his head to sound as calm and casual as possible, so that when the credits finally rolled he could lean forward, pick up the remote, and press the stop button. “Well. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight?” Melvin looked at him.

“It's late. I'm going to-”

"Hide in your room with your dolls?" Melvin shook his head. “Don't tell me you're tired. I came down an hour early to catch you.”

“Oh...” Ryou fidgeted. “Did... you want to watch another one?”

“Hm... No. Not tonight.”

“Okay... Well...” Ryou struggled to find some kind of normal footing in the situation. “Did you like the movie? I know it's a bit slower than the last one we watched.”

“Eh. It wasn't very subtle. I mean the killer shows up as she's masturbating to catching her 'friend,'” Melvin emphasized the word with air quotes, “in the shower? It's like being in Marik's head.”

At least that explained his lack of questions. If he hadn't been sitting next to the killer that lived in Marik's head, Ryou would've chuckled. “You really had it all figured out that early?”

“No,” Melvin shrugged. “But it all made perfect sense at the end.”

Ryou bit his lip. “What is it like in Marik's head? Do you have a soul room, or... how does that work?”

“Ugh.” Melvin rolled his eyes. “Boring as fuck since he moved in with Florence. Like yesterday at dinner? This irritating mouth-breather was jabbering away on his phone loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. All I could think about was what he would sound like with that phone lodged in his windpipe. I'm sure it wouldn't have been anything but an improvement. But _Marik_ didn't want me to 'ruin date night,'” more air quotes. “Fucking date night! That's what he worries about now.” Melvin crossed his arms. “I hate Marik. I don't want to talk about him.”

“Okay...” Ryou fidgeted, peeking at the clock on the cable box. “Is there anything you don't hate?”

Melvin laced his fingers behind his head and frowned at the ceiling for several long moments. “Sex is okay.”

So no go  _there_ . Ryou stared at his hands, wracking his brain for something to talk about. 

Fingers brushed across his temple and tucked his hair behind his ear. “Why do you look like you just watched your favorite dog get hit by a car? Haven't you ever ridden along with Bakura? I ride along with Marik sometimes. It's the only thing he does that's really worth paying attention to anymore.”

“I... usually just wait in my soul room until he gives me the all clear knock. I hope he would give me the same courtesy. I wouldn't fancy an audience.”

“So you've technically never had sex? Hm.” Melvin fingered Ryou's hair again. “Interesting.”

“I need to go.” Ryou stood up. 

A hand shot out and latched around his wrist. Melvin fixed him with a gaze that was strangely intense despite the otherwise neutral expression. “I wouldn't do anything that would leave marks, you know. Your mommy would put a stop to that real quick.”

Ryou tugged at his grip. “Please let go. I'm-”

“Tired?” Melvin grinned. “You don't look tired.” As he stood, he yanked Ryou closer. “Dilated pupils. Rapid respiration.” He squeezed Ryou's neck with his free hand, pressing his thumb between the tendons until he found the fluttering pulse. “Elevated heart rate... No, you're not tired. You're either afraid, or excited. You'd be surprised what little difference it makes from a physical perspective.”

Ryou shoved at the taller man's chest with his free hand. The solidity did not make him feel any less fluttery. “I'm serious! Let go!”

“Sh...” Melvin turned around and pressed Ryou toward the couch. “Sit down, tiny Florence.”

How was he so fucking calm? Why would it have been less frightening if he wasn't? “What if I leave marks on you?” He tried to make it sound like a threat, but it didn't seem to work.

Melvin chuckled. “I imagine Marik would realize I'd been out and about, and keep it to himself, because he's too afraid of what might happen to his limey lover if he decides to confront me. He knows I'm far more willing to hurt your body than Bakura is to hurt our body.”

_Like the Cell_ , Ryou thought. “If that's true, why were you so concerned about me telling him I saw you?”

“You two may be disposable but you,” he released Ryou's wrist to tap him on the nose, “my little marshmallow biscuit, are at least more _interesting_ alive. Given a choice I'd keep you that way. I'm just not sure Fluffy would give me a choice.”

Chasing Melvin's logic in circles wasn't helping. Ryou's throat rippled against Melvin's palm as he tried to think of something to say.

“Finally out of excuses?” Melvin smiled. “Then let's end this date properly.”

“Date?!” Ryou's eyes widened incredulously. He'd never agreed to any of this buggery!

Melvin tilted his head and made a humming sound as he moved forward.

Ryou finally lost his balance and fell into the cushions. His stomach clenched as Melvin climbed on top of him.

“Much better, biscuit,” Melvin purred. 

The kiss was unexpected. Deep. Messy. But Ryou didn't have much time to dwell on it, because hands hooked into the waist of his pajama pants and tugged down. The kiss broke when Ryou grabbed Melvin's wrists.

Melvin snorted. “I don't know what you're so nervous about. Technically you've had my cock in your ass three times this week.”

“That's not the same thing at all,” Ryou protested. “Are you at least going to use lube?”

“Silly rabbit,” Melvin laughed. “We won't need that.”

Before Ryou could protest, Melvin silenced him with his mouth. The kiss continued as Melvin pushed Marik's magenta lounge pants down around his thighs. Ryou tried pushing on his chest with both hands, but Melvin just pinned Ryou's wrists at either side of his head. He pushed himself up so that he could watch Ryou's face as he ground their hips together. Ryou's breath hitched every time their cocks brushed past each other. Soon enough he was as hard as Melvin. Soon enough, he found his hips answering Melvin's rhythm. 

Melvin took both of Ryou's wrists in one hand and pinned them to the arm rest. Then he clamped his free hand over Ryou's mouth. “Lick,” he hissed. 

Ryou slathered the palm with spit, tongue finding and exploring every line and crease. Once it was slicked to Melvin's satisfaction, he squeezed their cocks together just a little too hard to be comfortable and began working them fast. Ryou turned his face away, moaning and squirming until he added his cum to the mixture of bodily fluids. The hand released his wrists and stroked down his body to join the sticky one in gripping his hips. 

Melvin licked the roof of Ryou's mouth, and then nuzzled into his hair. “Roll over,” he whispered. 

The warm breath caused a shiver. “I don't think I want to...” Ryou whispered. The hands on his hips tightened and pulled, insisting. If he didn't cooperate, Melvin would just flip him anyway. Ryou didn't doubt that he could. He was stronger than Marik's lean frame suggested. Ryou complied, shifting underneath the taller body. “Listen, I'm not opposed to trying, but... Go slow and use lube... please?”

“Mm. I do love a pretty, pretty plea,” Melvin purred. His sticky erection pressed between the fleshy hills, rubbing up and down between them.

“Please,” Ryou whispered, hoping that meant it might help. “Please, please, please...”

“Yes,” Melvin hissed, humping him faster. “Beg, tiny Florence. Keep begging and maybe I won't give you something to really whimper about.”

With a tight stomach and a hot face, Ryou kept up the steady stream of whispering and whimpering until he heard and felt Melvin finish. When he felt the weight on top of him shift back, he hazarded a glimpse over his shoulder.

Melvin sat back on his heels, pants at mid-thigh with his hands on his knees. His heaving chest gleamed in the light of the blu ray menu. After a bit, he opened his eyes and let his head loll forward. He smirked at Ryou. “White as the cum you're covered in. Aren't you cute.”

Ryou struggled and dragged himself to the other end of the couch until he could sit up. “What... Why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Melvin's eyelids drooped. “I thought I made my intentions very clear.”

Ryou blushed and twisted his hair. His insides fluttered and churned. His skin tingled. He opened his mouth, but any sound he might've made lodged in his throat.

Melvin grabbed Ryou's head with both hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Same time next time. Pick something good for me.” He licked the bridge of Ryou's nose, and then left the room, adjusting his waist band as he went.

 


	3. The Cell

Ryou opened his eyes and sat up. Midnight, just like the Spirit always promised. He gripped the Ring with both hands and stared at it, wondering what Melvin would do if he wore it tonight. Ryou was torn. On one hand, Melvin had maybe listened when Ryou begged him to be gentler. On the other hand, it was more likely that the threat of being caught was the only thing preventing Melvin from raping him outright. In all other ways, he'd proven himself completely unwilling to even acknowledge Ryou's boundaries. Ring or not, Ryou reached the conclusion he'd rather not leave his room at all tonight. Instead, he locked his door and hid under his covers browsing scary story forums on his phone. Like a child hiding from the boogeyman.

A couple hours passed uneventfully. A little after two in the morning, he thought he heard his doorknob rattle. He froze, holding his breath. No more sounds reached his ears, but that didn't mean anything. He pulled the sheet away from his head as quietly as he could and looked at the door. It was still closed. After several long moments, he slid out of bed and tiptoed closer, straining to hear anything. Inches from the door, he eased himself onto the carpet and peeked through the crack under it.

Fingers sprang through the gap, grabbing at his hair.

Ryou yelped and scrambled away.

A low chuckle sounded from the hallway. “I knew I heard a little mouse.”

Ryou came up short against his bed. He took slow breaths as he watched the fingers disappear into the strip of darkness.

“You stood me up. That wasn't very nice of you.”

Ryou bit his lip. If Melvin could get through the door, he would've done it by now, right?

“I know you can hear me!”

He could've argued, but nothing he said would matter. It never did. So Ryou sat there, quietly hoping Melvin would give up and leave. Time passed in silence, and then he heard a series of muffled crashes in Marik's room. Ryou hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face between them. Melvin didn't bother him again that night.

 

The next night Ryou sat up and looked around. It was three in the morning, but his first thought was not of the Spirit. It was of Melvin. He jumped up and checked his closet. Under his bed. Behind his curtains. Listened at the door. Nothing. He sighed as he clicked his lock shut. When he returned to his bed and picked up his phone, he found a message from the Spirit open in the note taking app.

_Yeah, yeah, it's late. Marik was really moody and clingy today. Use the three hours for breakfast or something._

A twinge of guilt twisted Ryou's stomach as he thought of the noises he'd heard. He couldn't blame himself for everything Melvin did, but he also couldn't help feeling a tiny bit responsible for antagonizing him last night. He liked Marik, or at least didn't dislike him. Marik had helped placate Ryou's monster. 

Ryou bit his lip. Unable to believe what he was doing, he took off the Ring, hid it it underneath a drawer in his dresser, and stepped into the hallway. He could see a dim line of light marking Marik's door. Not sure what to expect, he knocked first. There was a stretch of silence, and then the door opened a crack. Just enough for a purple eye to peek through.

“Crumpet...” Melvin eyed him, opening the door a little wider. Still not wide enough for Ryou to see inside. 

“I was about to watch a film,” Ryou said softly.

Melvin's eyes narrowed. “Fine. Five minutes.”

The door snapped shut and Ryou found himself alone in the hallway. With his heart hammering in his chest, Ryou made his way to the living room and fired up Netflix. He had no idea what he wanted to watch. He wasn't even really thinking about what he wanted to watch. His thoughts were entirely occupied by the memory of Melvin lying on top of him. Ryou reminded himself that he'd sort of liked some of it, but that did nothing to calm his racing heart. Especially when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Especially when he felt the weight settle next to him on the couch. 

“What are we watching?” Melvin asked.

He looked up at Melvin, wearing Marik's lavender boxers and Marik's black undershirt. Then he looked back at the screen. “I...” An arm fell across his shoulders and his thoughts scattered. He said the first movie that came to mind. “It's called The Cell.” As the movie started, he tried to convince himself Melvin's grip felt more like an embrace and less like a trap.

“Why does he drown them if he doesn't want to look?” Melvin asked after a long silence. 

“Just watch. Explaining it now would spoil it.”

Silence.

“What hell is she watching?” Melvin asked. 

“I don't know,” Ryou shrugged. “I don't think its important.”

Silence.

“That's what you looked like laid out on the couch,” Melvin said, as though he'd just solved a particularly delightful puzzle.

“Oh?” Ryou tried to keep his voice level, but he didn't particularly relish being compared to a dead body.

“Mm,” Melvin hummed, toying absentmindedly with Ryou's hair. “But you made much prettier faces.”

Silence.

“Wait, how does he get them into the glass box thing?” Melvin asked. “It's water tight, isn't it? Is there a door on the ceiling?”

Ryou blinked. “I never thought about it before. I... guess it doesn't really explain.”

Melvin grunted in a way that sounded vaguely annoyed, but didn't comment further on the subject. He was actually mostly silent for quite a while after that. 

Until...

“Wait, why are they drowning him?” Melvin asked.

“It's a Baptism. No one was actually trying to drown him. This is all in his head, remember?”

“What's a Baptism?”

“It's... sort of a religious ceremony, to induct children into a church. They dip the baby in water...” Ryou trailed off, realizing Melvin seemed rather stiff. When he looked up, he saw that Melvin's expression had drawn in and gone tight. Somewhere between angry and worried.

“Does he kill him?” Melvin asked.

“Who?” Ryou asked.

The hand on Ryou's shoulder clenched. “What do you mean 'who?' His fucking father. He dies, right?”

Ryou bit his lip. Melvin had gotten such a kick out of seeing some of Marik in High Tension, Ryou'd thought he might get some similar amusement out of the split personality themes in the Cell. In his distraction, he'd completely blanked on the whole abusive father thing. Even then, the idea that anything could bother Melvin like that just didn't... It caught him by surprise. And scared him a little. “Maybe we should stop...” Ryou whispered.

“Stop what? Why?” Melvin demanded.

“I just... If it's upsetting...”

Melvin grabbed Ryou's neck and pulled his face in close. “Who's upset? You? Because I'm not. Do I look fucking upset?”

Yes, Ryou thought, but he shook his head no. “Sorry. I didn't... sorry...”

Melvin glared at him for a moment longer. Then he closed his eyes and took an extremely slow, deep, full breath. He let it out just as slowly as he forced his grip to relax. “I'm not upset,” he repeated with a much more convincing evenness to his tone. His fingers rubbed and prodded the pale throat, as though inspecting it for damage. Then he relaxed back into the couch again. “Make it go back. I think we missed something important.”

Ryou rewound the movie a few steps, trying not to look as terrified as he felt. Melvin's knee bounced restlessly and he wasn't nearly as talkative, but he managed to keep his temper in check after that. Eventually his arm snaked back around Ryou's shoulders and his fingers threaded back into Ryou's hair. By the end of the movie he looked reflective, but not angry. 

Still, Ryou's voice was hesitant when he said, “So... what did you think?” A pattern, now. Almost a ritual. The only ice breaker he could think of, because what the hell did a person talk to Melvin about?

Melvin eyed him. “That if I had a world where I could do whatever I wanted, I'd fuck you in a morgue drawer, but the kitchen counter will have to do.”

Before Ryou could react, Melvin snatched him off the couch and threw him over his shoulder. When they reached the kitchen, Melvin swept all the stuff from the center island onto the floor and laid Ryou out on his back. “Marik and the Spirit cook here,” Ryou protested as Melvin hopped up to straddle him. “We can't shag where they eat.”

“Maybe they shouldn't eat where we shag,” Melvin said as he yanked Ryou's shirt over his head.

Ryou squirmed, trying to untangle his arms. By the time he was free of his shirt, Melvin had him free of his pants as well. The bronze man loomed over him, eyes bright with excitement. The counter was cold. With the harsh fluorescence of the kitchen emphasizing his pallid complexion, he did feel a little like a body on a slab. And Melvin looked a little like the mad scientist ready to explore his insides. 

He caught Ryou's face with both hands and kissed him, rocking their bodies together with firm thrusts of his satin-clad pelvis. The heavier body pushed its warmth down through Ryou, into the stone beneath them. Something hot and tight and low in his gut began to simmer, boiling off his nerves. As Melvin molested his neck and chest with skin-grazing nips, Ryou panted and pulled at the black shirt.

Melvin gave Ryou's throat a final lick, pulling a sharp gasp from it. Then he stood up to rifle through the cabinets. 

Ryou blinked, suddenly cold again. He worried a few strands of hair. His heart thundered nervously. His arousal throbbed needily. Before he could make a choice, Melvin returned with a container of vegetable shortening. He slapped it on the counter next to Ryou's head. After he pushed Ryou onto his stomach, he grabbed his arm and leg to yank him back to the center of the island. Ryou started to push himself up on his elbows, but Melvin pushed him down again.

“Don't worry, crumpet,” Melvin assured. “I'll make sure you're plenty _slick_.” The last word rolled obscenely in his mouth. His hand fanned out and followed Ryou's spine to his butt. It squeezed.

Ryou bit his lip and shivered. He heard Melvin step out of Marik's boxers, and then felt him straddle his legs. After another pause he felt a decent glob of the white grease squish and smear up his crack. He heard the wet sounds of Melvin smearing the excess over his shaft. Then a shadow fell over him as Melvin moved into position. Ryou's eyes went wide. “Wait- Oh, god! Ah!”

Sheathed to the hilt, Melvin chuckled. “What's wrong, rabbit? I gave you the lube you asked for.” He almost pulled out, and then slammed his hips forward. 

“That bloody hurts! You said-”

“I wouldn't leave any marks.” Another purposely rough thrust. Another. Another, until he was fucking the shuddering body hard and fast into the chilled, stony surface. “The options for causing pain without leaving marks are going to blow your _mind_ , tiny Florence. I might blow my _load_ thinking about it if I'm not careful.” He groaned. “We are going to have so much fun exploring together.”

“Please wait,” Ryou begged, struggling and pushing to no avail. Melvin had him firmly pinned in a tangle of arms and legs. “Please! A minute! Just a minute!”

“Shush, crumpet,” Melvin warned. “Think of the neighbors. Or do I have to make you be quiet?”

Ryou bit the back of his own hand to stifle his shouts, but Melvin slapped it away.

“No marking yourself, either. You'll adjust.”

The cruel lips graced the nape of Ryou's neck with a paradoxically tender kiss. Ryou gripped the edges of the island and pressed his hot cheek to the cool surface. Relax. He had to relax. He had to. Eventually, incrementally, the pain dimmed. It didn't feel  _good_ , but it didn't feel like he was being torn open, either. Stretched. Full. Awkward. But he'd get through it.

Melvin's weight eased up. “Lift your hips,” he breathed.

Willingly pressing into the callous hammering took willpower, but Ryou did it. A hand slick with remnants of their improvised lubrication wrapped around his cock and pulled at it. Ryou moaned. That  _did_ feel good. Especially as a counterpoint to what he'd endured so far. It was like... like... the first step into an air-conditioned building on a sweltering day. “AahH! Oh- Please don't stop... Please... please, oh, my, please!” He arched his back, thrusting into Melvin's grip as best he could. He panted. He whimpered. Finally letting his head fall forward and tugging at his own hair as he splattered the counter beneath him. 

Leaving him little if any time time to be embarrassed by the mess he'd made, Melvin's full weight settled on him again. The pain flared once more as Melvin pounded his way mercilessly to his own climax. 

Melvin eased out of Ryou with a grunt and a groan. The sweaty body stayed on top of him for a while, though. Long enough for Ryou to realize he was lying in a puddle of his own jizz. In the middle of the kitchen. The freshly defiled kitchen. When Melvin rolled Ryou onto his back, the pale cheeks were rosy for a whole tangle of reasons.

Melvin brushed noses with Ryou. “Mm,” he hummed contentedly. “I hope you don't panic and do something stupid. It would be a real, honest shame to throw out the body with the Spirit. You know?”

Ryou shivered, feeling sick. “I wish you wouldn't hurt me...”

“But I will, biscuit,” Melvin smiled brightly. Gently. “I'm a mean, mean bastard.” He stroked Ryou's cheek with the backs of his fingers. A gesture that would have been tender if not for the words accompanying it. “Don't worry. I'll always make sure you get to have your fun, too.” His lips planted a firm, lingering kiss on Ryou's. “Good night.” 

Then he left Ryou to deal with their mess.

 


	4. Ginger Snaps

Ryou chewed on a strand of hair, pacing in his room. He was nervous. His original plan to help Marik placate Melvin had gone ridiculously off rails. Perhaps naively, he'd previously assumed Melvin wasn't too entirely different from the Spirit. Rough, fond of violence, but manageable. Having finally had a few in person meetings and observed the unsettling disconnects between his moods, words, and actions, Ryou was beginning to understand why the Spirit actually seemed almost scared of Marik's... creation. As scared as the Spirit was of anything, at any rate.

He was in over his head now, though. Melvin was fixating on him for whatever reason. Shutting him out might piss him off, and Ryou didn't want to hide in his room for the rest of his life, hoping that Melvin wouldn't lose it and Jack Torrance the door. He took a breath and stepped into the hall.

Immediately, a dark form sprang up from the shadowy floor and grabbed him around the middle. Before he could register what had happened, he found himself up against the wall, feet dangling, with Melvin's mouth attacking his neck.

“Marik went grocery shopping today,” he growled between kisses and nips, as if that statement alone meant something wonderful and exciting.

Rather then try to parse out his meaning, Ryou stammered out, “Aren't you... jumping ahead...?”

Melvin growled, “Fuck now, movie later,” before cramming his tongue in Ryou's mouth.

Ryou squirmed and pushed at him. “Melvin, wait... I... Listen to me! I...”

“Fuck first, movie after,” he insisted, tightening his grip and shoving Ryou harder against the wall.

Summoning his courage, Ryou put a hand on Melvin's forehead and pushed his head back. “Melvin! Can we at least _pretend_ I'm not just some torture porn sex doll? For my own benefit?”

Melvin's expression shifted a few times as his eyes darted back and forth between Ryou's. The movement was so tiny and quick that it looked like his irises were vibrating. “I don't understand.” His voice was flat but his expression... might have been confusion? Maybe confusion mixed with distrust and amusement and impatience all at once?

If Melvin had to ask, Ryou probably wasn't going to be able to explain it to him. “I like watching the movie first.”

Impatience apparently won out. “How am  _I_ supposed to concentrate on a movie when all I've been able to think about since Marik went shopping is what I want to do to you? All afternoon! All evening! Waiting!” His expression dipped back into a leer. “Anticipating...” Though the leer remained, “I'm all wound up, biscuit,” almost came out as a whining plea.

Ryou finally had to ask, “What is so bloody exciting about the grocer's?”

The question seemed to delight Melvin. “You don't know?”

“Know what?” Ryou wasn't sure if he should be scared or frustrated.

Melvin's mouth stretched into a predatory snarl. “Oh, I  _have_ to show you  _now,_ ” he growled. 

Scared, then, Ryou decided.

He slung Ryou over his shoulder and bounded down the stairs. “Don't worry, tiny Florence,” he chirped when Ryou struggled. “We'll do that thing you want to do after.”

Once more, Ryou found himself on his back on the counter island in the kitchen. Whatever Melvin was planning, it wouldn't leave marks. That eliminated anything involving lemon juice or salt, he decided. How else would Melvin hurt him with food? Choke him with something? Burn him with something?

Melvin's hand pressed on Ryou's chest. “Stop squirming, biscuit.” He frowned as though reconsidering his words. “At least, for now. I'm hoping you'll do a lot more squirming in a few minutes.”

“What are you going to do?” Ryou demanded.

Melvin's eyes narrowed as his frown hardened. “Am I going to have get the restraints that Marik uses on Bakura? Because if you make me go all the way back up to Marik's room, I'm going to be in a much less playful mood. I've waited long e-fucking-nough.”

Whatever Melvin had planned, Ryou decided he'd rather not be tied up for it. He stilled as Melvin stripped him bare.

“I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing you like that,” Melvin purred as he rubbed Ryou from chest to belly. After spending some time enjoying the view, he went to the fridge and opened the produce drawer. Whatever he pulled out was about the size of his hand. Next he drew a knife from the knife block. He placed both items on the wooden cutting board and carried it over like a surgical tray.

When he plopped it on the counter next to Ryou's head, Ryou realized the thing from the fridge was ginger root. Melvin picked up the knife, considered the root for a moment, and then began cutting away the smaller fingers. Once he had the biggest one isolated, save for the bulbous base it had sprouted off of, he began skinning it. The knife should have too large for the job but Melvin handled it with a surprising delicacy. He moved the cutting board and its contents out of the way.

Resting an elbow on Ryou's chest and the corresponding hand on Ryou's stomach, he said, “Raise your knees and spread your legs.”

No trick to guess where the crudely carved butt plug was going. It didn't look intimidating, but Ryou responded hesitantly. There had to be a catch. It was cold at first, when it went in, because of the fridge. Then it started to tingle. Then it started to burn.

Melvin leaned casually on Ryou's torso, watching his expression change with increasing delight. “Mm, look at you,” he groaned. He moved the ginger slowly, fucking Ryou's bottom with it while the pale body bucked and writhed.

“It burns!” Ryou protested.

“Oh, I know,” Melvin grinned. “Tell me more, marshmallow. Does it hurt all way up inside, or mostly just around near the entrance? Is it a tingling sting like bleach, or a smooth, intense heat like fire?”

“I don't know, it just hurts...”

“Think about it. I'll gladly watch you writhe until morning if that's what it takes. No rush.” Melvin kissed the parted lips, letting his tongue dip inside.

Ryou couldn't say anything with Melvin's tongue in his mouth. The kiss was agonizingly slow as he waited for a chance to answer. Pale fingers clawed at the counter top. He wanted to reach down and push Melvin's hand away, but he knew Melvin wouldn't let him. “It...” he finally managed to say. “Started tingly, but...” His thighs squeezed Melvin's arm, but clenching only intensified the burning. “It's just hot. Really, really hot... wherever it's...” His back tried to arch, but the steady pressure on his torso prevented that. “Wherever it's touching...”

The answer must've satisfied Melvin, because he situated the piece of ginger to stay in place on its own and shifted his grip to Ryou's wrists. “Stand up,” he purred, tugging and directing Ryou surprisingly gently considering he was still in the middle of tormenting him. “Get on your knees.”

Wrists still imprisoned, Ryou looked up past the straining tent in the magenta lounge pants. “How long do I have to have this inside me?”

Melvin's face twisted with sadistic delight. “I haven't decided yet.” He pulled out his cock and grabbed two fistfuls of Ryou's hair.

Fully expecting to get throat-fucked otherwise, Ryou wrapped a hand around the base of Melvin's erection to create a stop on how much could be shoved in his mouth at once. Marik/Melvin certainly wasn't small. Then Ryou cradled Melvin's shaft with his tongue and took him into his mouth. It wasn't like trying to suck on a sweet, because he couldn't close his teeth. After trying a few, awkward, fumbling things, he decided stroking with his lips would be easiest. He was going purely on guess work. He just wanted Melvin to hurry up and get his rocks off so he'd take the buggering torture device out of his bum.

“You really are less experienced than the Spirit,” Melvin chuckled. “Suck with your lips.” He pinched Ryou's cheek. “Like a fishy.”

Taking the advice, Ryou tightened his lips and tried to pull his cheeks in. The humming purr and the fists clenching in his hair told him he must've gotten something right. Keeping the suction, he bobbed his head a little faster, letting his fist follow his lips. He was glad he took the protective measure when Melvin suddenly pulled his head closer and held it in place. Ryou still almost coughed as a spurt of cum hit the back of his throat, and Melvin wouldn't let him go until he'd swallowed all of it.

Yanking at his hair, Melvin pulled him up into a kiss. The taller body forced Ryou against the counter. “Your turn, marshmallow.”

“Please take it out,” Ryou whimpered.

“No,” Melvin growled as he lifted Ryou and set him on the counter.

Ryou squirmed as the plug shifted inside him. The pressure from sitting intensified the burning another degree. “I don't like it...”

“You're not supposed to.” Melvin licked his hand and started coaxing Ryou's cock to attention.

Ryou gripped Melvin's shoulders, rocking and flinching as the pleasant warmth and the painful burning vied for attention. “Melvin...” he whimpered. Teeth tugged at his ear and played at his neck. No marks. Ryou could tell from Melvin's grip and frustrated growls that he wanted to bite harder. Much harder. He only didn't because he couldn't. Ryou's heart fluttered and his cock throbbed and his ass burned and his chest heaved and he clung to Melvin with his arms and legs as he finally climaxed. His moan wavered between bliss and upset as involuntary muscle contractions made him clench on the ginger again.

Melvin's strokes slowed to a stop, though he still gave Ryou a final, hard squeeze before letting go. Holding Ryou close with one arm, he pulled him down to stand on the floor. Ryou gripped Melvin's shoulders and buried his face in Melvin's chest as Melvin found and gripped the piece of ginger. He slid it out ever so slowly, causing Ryou to groan and shudder against his chest.

Ryou took a moment to catch his breath, too relieved as the pain faded to care that he was clinging to the person responsible for it in the first place.

“Movie?” Melvin purred against Ryou's ear.

There was silence as Ryou tried to think. “How do you feel about werewolves?” Ryou asked.

Melvin simply shrugged.

Sitting was still a bit of a sore point. Melvin stretched out on his back. Ryou stretched out on Melvin, stomach to stomach on the couch. Melvin talked and gestured and asked questions. Ryou answered when necessary. Bizarrely enough, he was actually starting to maybe get comfortable with his forced movie companion. He wasn't _completely_ sure that he trusted Melvin's self-control enough to stick with the 'no marks' clause. If things started getting too out of hand, he'd have to come up with an excuse, and a way, to communicate with Marik. For now, it was nice to have someone to talk to once they got past all the kinky shit.

 


	5. Saw 2

Ryou didn't see Melvin right away, but the light in the kitchen answered the unasked question quickly. He stopped in the doorway, watching Melvin mess around in the freezer. His eyes slid to the counter island where Melvin had apparently left the vegetable shortening, and a pair of the soft leather cuffs Marik and the Spirit used together. “Why would we need those?” Ryou asked stiffly.

“I thought you liked watching the movie first,” Melvin said without looking at him.

“You realize you can tell me things without showing me first...”

Melvin finally closed the door and leaned one shoulder against the fridge. “It's more fun when you don't know,” he pouted. Then he leered. “You get all nervous and fidgety.”

Ryou frowned at him. He thought about pointing out that he could still go lock himself in his room, and then he remembered Melvin's vague threat about panicking and doing something stupid. Twirling his hair, he sighed and looked off to the side. “I'm going to make popcorn. Did you want anything?”

Melvin shrugged. “The popcorn was okay.”

Ryou got the popcorn from the cupboard and pulled out a bag. He felt Melvin's eyes following him, but Melvin never moved from his spot by the fridge. “You could get the movie started,” Ryou suggested as he pressed buttons on the microwave.

“What are we watching?” Melvin asked without moving.

“Do... you want to pick something?” Ryou asked. Four nights 'hanging out' with Melvin, and Ryou still knew next to nothing about him. Nothing that he hadn't already gotten from the Spirit. Maybe getting him to pick a movie would help. Monsters were always less scary once they became too familiar.

“I don't know any movies that Marik hasn't seen,” Melvin muttered.

“Are there any you want to share?” Ryou pressed. He watched the bag in the microwave because it was easier to talk to Melvin without looking at him.

“No. The movies Marik likes are stupid. Like Legally Blonde.” The sneer of pure disgust was clear in Melvin's voice when he said, “He practiced bending and snapping in his room for a week.”

Ryou snickered briefly and then clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle any more laughter. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Melvin wasn't offended, but he hadn't seemed to notice.

“Made me want to bend and snap his neck.” He frowned. “Okay, maybe not his neck, but definitely a couple of fingers.”

Ryou didn't ask if he was serious. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer. Ryou was about to suggest picking something random from Netflix when Melvin spoke again.

“How many Saws are there?” He sounded almost bored.

It took Ryou a moment to process the question. “Um... at least six.”

“Six?!” Melvin blinked. “I haven't seen any of the sequels!” He threw his arms out to his sides. “Bakura decided the first one was 'over-polished Hollywood piss' so Marik stopped watching them!”

“The Spirit's a bit of a horror snob. That's the real reason we never watch anything together.” Ryou snorted, wearing a wry smile. “He's not even original about it. Lots of people like Cannibal Holocaust.”

Melvin laughed. “He is a surprisingly wet blanket, isn't he?”

Ryou almost smiled at him.

As they settled onto the couch to watch, an arm snaked around Ryou's waist and constricted, pulling him closer. Ryou's heart jumped for reasons he couldn't quite pin down, but Melvin only seemed interested in the popcorn bowl in Ryou's lap.

“Would you mutilate yourself to save your life?” Melvin suddenly asked.

The question surprised Ryou. It was the first time Melvin had exhibited any interest in Ryou as an individual. The interest offered him a sense of reassurance. He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted that reassurance until he had it. “I... guess I'd have to. I would be fighting for two lives, and the Spirit would definitely want to live.”

“Do you think most people would?” Melvin asked.

“It depends on what they have to live for.”

There was a stretch of silence as Melvin either considered Ryou's answer or focused on the movie. It was hard to tell which. When he spoke again, he'd changed the subject. The conversation throughout the movie mostly involved the puzzles, their solutions, and whether they were fair or not. Melvin was under the impression the solutions were obvious and perfectly fair. Ryou wasn't so sure about some of them. By the end, Ryou forgot to be wary of the figure pressed to his side, and even found himself looking up from a position leaning against the bronze shoulder.

“That was much better than the first one,” Melvin said, without prompting this time. “I wonder what happens to Amanda...”

“We could watch another one if you want.”

Melvin's head twitched down. He frowned and quirked an eyebrow. “Are you stalling, biscuit?”

Genuine confusion creased Ryou's forehead. “Stalling...?” Like a flipped switch, he suddenly found himself under a growling, leering Melvin.

“There's only one thing I want to watch, marshmallow. Your pasty ass writhing on the slab.”

“You never told me what you're going to do with the hand cuffs,” Ryou said.

Melvin blinked once slowly. “Fine. I will use lube.” He gave Ryou's cheek a quick flick with the tip of his tongue. “I will prep you first.” He licked the other cheek. “I promise both of those things.” The tongue traced Ryou's chin to his mouth and dipped inside.

There had to be a catch, but Ryou couldn't quite pin it down. Not with Melvin's insistent pawing and grinding overwhelming his senses. Parts of it did feel good. Parts of it were things he sort of wanted. There was an orgasm on the other side of the uncomfortable, kinky buggery. Melvin hadn't hurt him too badly yet. Could've slit his throat the second night and didn't...

In the end, he only put up a little resistance before Melvin left their clothes in the living room and brought him to the kitchen.

Melvin kissed each of Ryou's wrists before buckling the cuffs around them. Situating him near the edge of the counter, he pulled Ryou's arms up over his head and fastened them to the dish towel rack at the end of the island. Ryou watched Melvin upside-down, with his head hanging over the edge.

“Comfortable?” Melvin purred, stroking Ryou's throat and jaw with light fingers.

“Of course not,” Ryou sighed.

Melvin laughed. “Wonderful!” He went to the freezer and pulled out the ice cube bin. He set it beside Ryou, and then leaned over his face, petting his hair. “Hold still or I'll shove another piece of ginger up your ass.”

Ice. Ice wasn't too intimidating at all, actually. Ryou lifted his head as much as he could, watching Melvin pluck ice cubes from the container and balance them in a line from Ryou's chest to Ryou's groin. Then two lines down either side of that line. As Melvin covered his torso in ice, the cold sunk into his skin and started to sting. Rivulets of water traced ticklish lines on his sides. Ryou bit his lip and tried to keep still. It was better than the ginger.

When his neck began aching, Ryou eased his head back. His hair tumbled over the edge like a foamy waterfall, brushing his hands. He heard Melvin select another piece of ice. A wet chill traced from the underside of his chin, to his throat, and across his chest. Ryou closed his eyes, breathing as slowly and shallowly as he could. There was a pause, and then he felt the same wet chill circle a nipple. His breath hitched and several of the carefully balanced cubes clattered onto the counter. He lifted his head, ready to beg Melvin for mercy if it would help. Melvin rubbed at the wet, pink flesh. The sudden heat from his hand made Ryou gasp again.

“That's one way to put some color on you,” he murmured. There was something about his expression. Distracted. Tense. Frustrated. Wanting.

Instinctively, Ryou pulled at the cuffs, testing his minute range of motion. The soft sound of metal on metal drew Melvin's attention. His face relaxed into the tiniest of smiles and his eyelids dipped. He opened the freezer again, but this time he pulled out the popsicle maker Marik had bought last summer and never used. Ryou watched warily as he extracted a perfect cylinder of ice. When Melvin walked down by his legs and grabbed one of his knees, Ryou's eyes widened. Pressing his legs harder against the counter top, he asked, “What are you doing with that?”

The resistance only made Melvin's eyes brighten with excitement. “Mm,” he hummed. “Why don't you guess?” He forced an arm under Ryou's knees and folded them up to Ryou's chest, leaning closer to Ryou's face. “That wasn't a rhetorical question, crumpet,” he explained. “I want to hear you say it.”

Ryou bucked and squirmed as much as he could without falling off the edge of the counter. All Melvin did was lean harder into the pin. Ryou groaned, cheeks turning pink. “...up my bum...” he mumbled, turning his face away.

“What was that, tiny Florence?” Melvin grinned, cocking his head.

“You're going to bum me with a buggering popsicle,” Ryou groaned. He wondered at the point of resisting or begging. If Melvin wanted to do it, he would find a way, and Ryou wasn't going anywhere until Melvin finished and released his hands.

Melvin chuckled. “That's one way of putting it, yes.” Shifting his grip to Ryou's left knee, he pulled it across Ryou's body, twisting him at the waist. Then he shove the knee up toward Ryou's chest and pinned it to the counter.

Ryou gritted his teeth when he felt the cold tip on his asshole. “I don't suppose you'd consider _not_ sticking ice up my bum...”

“No!” Melvin declared gleefully, stabbing forward.

“Oh, god!” Ryou arched.

“At least you'll be numb when I pound your insides to pudding,” Melvin pointed out calmly.

“Not so hard,” Ryou pleaded as Melvin worked the icy spear in and out of him. He tried to pull away, but aside from attempting to kick Melvin with his right foot, which he didn't even dare try, there wasn't anything he could do.

Melvin shoved it deep and held it, clenching his fingers on Ryou's thigh as he watch Ryou rock and whimper. “Tell me about it,” he growled.

Right. This part. “The cold... It hurts at the entrance, but it's also making my insides cramp. The ice is too hard. I can't... The hardness hurts...” He expected that to be enough, like with the ginger, but Melvin started fucking him with it again, albeit slower. Ryou curled in on himself as much as he could. “Please stop... the ice isn't smooth...”

“You're not bleeding,” Melvin teased.

“But it hurts!” Ryou whined.

“Aw, poor biscuit,” Melvin purred. “I'm just too mean, aren't I?”

Ryou groaned in frustration.

Melvin leaned over him. “Do you want to me stop?” He whispered.

Ryou nodded.

“Do you _really_ want me to stop?”

“Yes! Please!” Ryou cried out, hoping he was playing the game right.

“You know what I _really_ want to do is hold it in there until it melts.”

That earned him another unhappy moan.

“But watching you struggle and blush like that, I'm also _dying_ to fuck you. Hm...” Melvin tilted his head. “If only I could do both at once. Maybe shove my cock up alongside it. I bet that would be a fun sensation for both of us.”

Ryou's eyes widened. “Melvin, please... Please, please, pretty please...”

He climbed up, straddling Ryou's right leg, using his left knee to keep Ryou's left leg in its bent position. “Please?” He echoed, teasing.

The body looming over him was warm, already familiar. Ryou's heart fluttered. Arousal by association. As much as the ice hurt, he anticipated the hand that would surely start polishing his knob any moment now. His cock was ready and waiting for it. Despite his fear and discomfort.

“Mm,” Melvin hummed against his neck. “Very little difference. Very little difference at all.”

Melvin greased his erection with shortening, and then the icy chill was gone, replaced by the fleshy heat. Bottoming out on the first thrust. Ryou hadn't expected anything less as he cried out.

“You _are_ cold,” Melvin breathed. “Oh, that's interesting... Really interesting...”

Sweet steaming teapots, he was warm, and it felt good even with the deep, overstuffed sensation. Then Melvin pulled Ryou's left leg over a toned, tan shoulder and got up on his knees. Ryou yelped as he found himself half hung over the edge of the counter. “Don't drop me,” he whimpered as Melvin started fucking him. “Don't drop me, don't drop me, don't- Ah!” There. The hand that was smooth like Marik and forceful like Melvin worked his shaft viciously. Ryou moaned, curling his toes and arching his back.

When he came, he didn't even have time to think about getting bodily fluids all over the kitchen, much less feel guilty. Melvin didn't stop jacking him after Ryou finished. Instead, his grip tightened. Ryou cried out again, pleasure edging into over-stimulation as he shuddered. Fortunately the tearless sobs brought Melvin to his own climax not too long later.

Melvin disentangled himself carefully, so as not to drop Ryou. Bruises were marks, after all. He moved around to Ryou's head and bent to free his hands. Ryou sat up, rubbing his wrists and rolling his shoulders. He thought Melvin would pick him up and put him on the floor, like last night. He thought he would get a chance to steal a second or two of post coital cuddling, whether Melvin saw it that way or not. What he wasn't expecting was the pang of disappointment when Melvin just... left him there.

 


	6. Saw 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got longer than I expected...

Ryou tossed the Ring hastily into his sock drawer and scrambled to his door. He paused, gripping the handle. When they'd gotten the sex out of the way first, he'd gotten plenty of after-cuddling during the movie. When they watched the movie first, he could pretend it was a date.

Melvin had used that word, hadn't he? If he wasn't being facetious...

Ryou was torn between which option he preferred. He wanted both, but he doubted he'd get both.

What _were_ Melvin's actual thoughts on the whole situation? How could he get them without receiving a blank stare or an impatient brush-off?

Waiting for Melvin to accost him was easier. Ryou was quite the novice when it came to flirting.

According to himself, a dubious source at best, the Spirit was well versed in the art of seduction, but they'd never discussed that sort of thing beyond the Spirit's vague, shallow bragging. And it wasn't like he could specifically ask for the Spirit's advice now. Too many questions. Too many awkward or incriminating answers.

There were Melvin's tactics... but Ryou doubted the wisdom of suddenly grabbing Melvin and pinning him against the nearest solid surface.

He opened the door and jumped a little when found Melvin planted firmly in the middle of the hallway.

Crossed arms lowered to his sides. "Finally. What took you so long?"

Spur of the moment, Ryou decided to try some simple flirting to test Melvin's reaction. He walked up to Melvin, slipped his arms around Melvin's waist, and hugged him. "Hello to you, too."

Melvin didn't hug back. His posture remained relaxed and casual. "Saw 3, right?"

Ryou leaned back just enough to look up at him. He'd been expecting _some_ sort of response. The complete non-response flustered him a little. "I was hoping we could, um, do things out of order again..."

Melvin's eyes flitted over Ryou's face with tiny, rapid movements. As before, he couldn't seem to decide what expression to display. Then, of all things, he shrugged. A hand touched the side of Ryou's face and a thumb ran across Ryou's lips. "As long as you remember that you _asked_ for it."

Neutral tone, threatening words, affectionate gesture. Ryou didn't know what to make of it all together, so he focused on the affectionate gesture, leaning his cheek into Melvin's palm. "I know."

The fingers combed to the back of Ryou's head and tightened in his hair. Instead of leading Ryou downstairs, Melvin pulled him into Marik's room.

The grip on his hair didn't allow him to look around much, but Ryou took in what he could. He'd never been in Marik's room before. Not as himself. The most fascinating thing was the collage of keepsakes wreathing the mirror above Marik's dresser. Photographs of him, the Spirit, and him with the Spirit, among other small trinkets that Ryou didn't get a chance to properly look at, all taped and stickered neatly in place. A purple and gold net canopy hung from the ceiling and tented the bed. Half of the master bathroom counter was hidden under various bottles and tubes of beauty products. If Ryou hadn't known any better, he would've guessed a teenage girl lived there. There certainly wasn't anything of Melvin to mark the place.

Melvin trapped him in a corner of the bathroom and devoured his mouth, stopping only when it became necessary to remove Ryou's shirt. Licks and nips trailed down Ryou's body as Melvin crouched to finish stripping him. Instead of standing up afterward, he tugged on Ryou's wrists to bring him down. Up on his knees, straddling Ryou's lap, he used Ryou's hair to pull their faces together.

Ryou's scalp tingled uncomfortably from all of the yanking about. At the same time, Melvin's heat and proximity had bloody Pavlov's cock up and drooling precum in Ryou's lap. The change of location made him nervous, but he knew he could survive the hungry excitement in Melvin's eyes, and he wanted the reward for acquiescence so badly.

So when Melvin rasped, "Kneel and face the corner," Ryou complied.

Melvin went out to the bedroom. When he returned, Ryou felt the slide and hug of leather on his ankles and, eventually, his wrists. Nerves flared when Melvin fastened his wrists to his ankles, but Ryou  _had_ asked for it. That didn't stop his eyes from widening or his throat from rippling. 

Fingers squeezed the sides of his neck. "You've gone all fluttery, biscuit," Melvin purred in his ear. "What's going on in that fragile little head of yours? I wonder..."

Ryou decided to be honest. It was something he knew Melvin would love to hear. "I just realized it's too late to change my mind if I wanted to."

Melvin chuckled. "I'm sure you will want to," he murmured. "I'm going to be very mean to you." He kissed Ryou's ear.

Ryou tried to look at him. Melvin took him by the jaw and turned his face forward.

"Watch the wall," he said. "If you try to peek, I'll tape onion slices over your eyes."

He stood up, and then ruffled Ryou's hair. After that, Ryou wasn't sure what Melvin did or where Melvin went. It was just him and the wall and his thoughts. Part of him insisted that Melvin's threats should unnerve him more than they did. Part of him clung to the little gestures that didn't match Melvin's words. The kisses. The hair petting. Weren't these games that some people played? Submitting to sadistic threats and tortures for the reward of pleasure? Like the Spirit's porn collection.

A sound behind him. The rain of small, hard objects clattering on porcelain echoed in the bathroom. He heard the noise a few times at fairly even intervals before he felt Melvin's hands on him. Strong arms scooped him up and deposited him in the bath tub. Ryou yelped.

The bottom of the tub was covered with about two inches of ice cubes.

Ryou squirmed, stuck at an odd angle, sort of on his back with his knees up and leaning off to one side. He could do nothing to right himself in the small space with limited range of motion. Melvin sat on the floor with his arms crossed on the edge of the tub. Watching. Then he reached over and turned on the cold water. It pooled around Ryou's butt and crawled up his arms toward his shoulders. His neck. Ryou shivered.

A tiny smile broke Melvin's neutral mask as water crept up the sides of Ryou's head. Ryou's teeth chattered as he waited for Melvin to turn the faucet off. He didn't. When water passed his ears and ice cubes started closing over his face, Ryou lifted his head, struggling to sit up. He couldn't.

"Melvin," he whimpered.

No response.

"Melvin, please..." More panicked now.

"You should hold your breath," Melvin suggested.

Ryou took a deep breath before he submerged. His fingers fumbled for the buckles on the cuffs, but he couldn't quite get a grip with his hands trapped under him. All he could see was the blurry silhouette of Melvin on the other side of the ice. All he could hear was the rumbling splash of the faucet and the crackling click of the cubes. He bucked and twisted, trying to get his legs under him, but only wound up on his side with his knees trapped against his chest and the cuffs pulling painfully at his wrists.

That was the point where Melvin finally chose to intervene. He grabbed Ryou's upper arm and lifted his head out of the water. It hurt Ryou's shoulder, but he was too busy sucking air through chattering teeth to care much. Cold bit into his skin and wormed into his bones. Sopping hair fell across his face and fanned out in the water beneath his cheek.

Melvin tilted his head and leaned for a better view. He narrowed his eyes and huffed, either impatient or disappointed.

Before Ryou could say anything, his head was under water again. He didn't like this. He hadn't exactly liked the last two things, either, but he especially didn't like this.

The next time he felt air on his face, he gasped, "W-wait... st- op..."

Back under, longer this time, or at least it felt that way. Too easy. Too easy to accidentally wait too long and...

"Sca-aring m-me," he chattered. "Y-you're..."

Water rushed up his nose and he had to fight not to cough up his precious lungful of air. Melvin wasn't listening! How could he make him listen? He needed to make him listen!

"Safe... word..." he forced out between coughs and shivers.

Melvin laughed, dropping him a fourth time. He fished him out quickly, though. "Good one, crumpet," he snickered. "Safe word..." Laughing once more as he rolled Ryou onto his back. The laughter trailed off as he propped Ryou against the tub's incline. "I don't know how I'm going to make you colder," he murmured thoughtfully. "I was sure this would do it..."

Colder? With ice cubes ringing his head and sloshing between his thighs, the only way he could be colder was if Melvin waited until winter and buried him in snow. On the heels of that thought, a hope that the idea wouldn't occur to Melvin come winter time.

Melvin plucked a piece of ice from the water and traced patterns on Ryou's face with it. "You'd be so pretty all frosty and frozen... Like... Yuki-onna..." He pressed the cube between the chattering teeth. "Mm," he hummed as he shoved a second cube into Ryou's mouth. "My little snow biscuit." He propped his arms on the now wet rim of the tub and swirled a finger in the drifting cloud of white hair. "Swallow them."

Cringing, Ryou chewed and swallowed. When he opened his mouth to show Melvin that they were gone, Melvin placed more ice on his tongue. Ryou didn't know how long he lied there letting Melvin feed him ice, but his stomach cramped and his fingers stiffened. The cold didn't hurt his skin directly so much after a while. He'd gone rather numb. But his muscles ached from shivering and his teeth ached from chewing ice.

"M-my t-t-teeth hurt," he whined when Melvin ran yet another ice cube across his lips.

Melvin's face was serene. "I can imagine. You're turning a lovely shade of blue, yuki..." He chuckled. Instead of going in his mouth, the ice cube followed the length of Ryou's neck and torso under the water. "Can you even feel this?"

"S-s-sort of... B-but mmy h-ha-hands..."

"Your hands?"

Before Ryou could protest, Melvin rolled him onto his stomach. Face submerged, Ryou could only wait until Melvin finished freeing his wrists. He pushed himself up as soon as he could. Water streamed from the curtain of hair around is face as he coughed. Through the ice and water, he could see a faint bluish tint under his nails. He tried to stand, but his stiff legs buckled as sharp tingles swarmed under his skin.

Arms circled him. Arms that felt impossibly hot in contrast with his skin. Ryou clawed at Melvin's shirt as he was hauled to his feet, but his stiff fingers wouldn't cooperate. All he could do was hang like a rag doll and hope Melvin didn't let go. "Und-der my s-skin," Ryou chattered. "It's un-under mmy sk-skin and it wo-n't go a-aw-way..." It was getting easier to play Melvin's game unprompted. "P-please..." He tried to burrow closer. Tried to get his hands under Melvin's shirt. Tried to get at any inch of the warm skin that he could.

Melvin grabbed Ryou's jaw, digging his fingers into the cold, pale cheeks. "What? Fuck the heat back into you?" He chuckled as he loosened his grip.

The cold tile floor stung Ryou's knees. His hands clutched at Melvin's hips to keep his balance. He looked up, confused, desperate, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"You have to get my cock wet, yuki," Melvin explained. "Unless you want it dry."

Ryou's fingers responded enough to free Melvin's erection. His tongue painted the length with as much saliva as he could. All he wanted was Melvin on him, around him. If that meant in him, too, so be it.

Bottles and tubes scattered when Melvin bent him over the counter. The weird chill still prickled beneath Ryou's skin, but with the assistance of the counter his legs could support him. Ryou caught a glimpse of Melvin in the mirror as hands squeezed his bum. He wore the same frustrated glare from the previous night. Ryou's head snapped around, but the expression was gone, replaced by the tiny smile.

Any thoughts on the subject scattered when Melvin got to stuffing it in. He went slow for once, but only out of difficulty. Saliva wasn't as effective as vegetable shortening, it seemed, and he kept stopping to spit where their bodies joined. The forced restraint did allow Ryou more time to adjust, though. By the time Melvin achieved full penetration, Ryou was almost ready for it.

Melvin hooked an elbow across Ryou's throat and pulled him against his chest. His free hand wandered over Ryou's torso, rubbing his stomach, massaging his chest, kneading warmth into his flesh. Ryou gripped the arm around his neck, breathing in strained gasps. Why did the blimming lunatic have to feel so good when he wasn't being mean? He turned his head, biting lightly at Melvin's bicep as Melvin shagged the sense out of him.

They didn't bother to dress when it was over. They didn't even bother to leave Marik's room. It was a strange experience, slipping under the lavender sheets. The Spirit had surely been there before, but the feel and smell of the linens was entirely new to Ryou.

Melvin rested his chin on top of Ryou's head, watching him open the laptop balanced on his knees. "Obey me sixty nine," he said dully.

"What?" Ryou looked up from the keyboard.

"Marik's lock screen password," Melvin said.

"Oh. Thanks..." Ryou typed it in. "Why...?"

"He'd 'forget,'" air quotes, "his password and scream _obey me_ at the screen until Bakura came to help him reset it. Bakura finally made that the password. I wish he'd figured out what I kept changing it to."

"What?" Ryou asked, uncertain if he really wanted to know.

"No," Melvin said.

Ryou processed that for a moment, and then laughed freely in front of Melvin for the first time. "'Obey me.' 'No.' That's funny." Though it was more from surprise that Melvin could think of such an innocuous joke. Finally, something new that didn't put him on edge.

Melvin shrugged. "At least someone gets to appreciate it."

Ryou started the movie and settled in between Melvin's legs, using them as arm rests.

For once, Ryou spoke first. "See? How is he supposed to get that ring out of his jaw? A person can't rip their own jaw off in under a minute. Explain why that's fair."

"He'd have to smash his chin," Melvin said. "Split his lower jaw open."

"In less that a minute?"

Melvin shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Ryou decided he was too worn out to argue the point.

 


	7. ABCs of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating adding an archive warning for this chapter, but I haven't decided yet.

All was dark down stairs. Ryou kept his eyes and ears open as he made his way to the kitchen, expecting Melvin to jump out and scare him, but he was still alone when he flicked on the kitchen light. Turning back toward the living room, he called out, "Hello?"

No shifting shadows. No grabbing hands. No manic laugh. Nothing.

Ryou frowned. Maybe Marik had reasserted control. Three nights ago, Ryou might've been relieved, but tonight he felt a pang of loneliness. He'd never noticed how empty the house got when he was the only one awake. Too big for only two bodies.

Crossing his fingers, he tiptoed up the stairs and pressed an ear to Marik's door. Right as he was about to give up and take the opportunity to watch Dead Alive, he heard the familiar voice.

"Ten minutes, crumpet. I need to finish this."

Ryou worried a piece of hair. Finish what? Did he want to know? "Can I come in?" He asked.

"Mmph."

Ryou opened the door a crack. Then enough to lean inside. Melvin sat in the middle of Marik's froofy bed, clad in nothing but the magenta lounge pants. He typed furiously on Marik's lap top, using only three fingers on either hand. Upon receiving no apparent resistance, Ryou wandered over to inspect the collage. A photo booth strip of Marik hanging all over a very annoyed Ring Spirit, ending with Marik trapped in a head lock while the Spirit laughed. A beach selfie, framed with little cocktail umbrellas. The Spirit kissing a surprised Marik on the cheek. Ryou didn't remember that trip, but he remembered the sunburn. It was weird seeing what the Spirit did when he was in control. Like seeing pictures from a blacked-out bender.

His eyes focused on the mirror behind the keepsakes. Melvin stared at the screen, chewing on a few strands of his wild bangs. Ryou made his way farther into the room to peek at the screen. It looked like a chat window, maybe, but he still wasn't at a good angle to read it. His eyes darted to a Lady Gaga poster on Marik's wall. It would be rude to read over Melvin's shoulder, but he was curious now. "What's got you so absorbed?"

"Mm? Oh... I figured out how to..." Melvin trailed off, reading the screen. The keys clicked some more.

Ryou sighed and looked around the room for anything else he could look at without digging through Marik's belongings.

"...kill people with the internet."

Ryou blinked, not sure he'd heard the half-mumbled words right. "Sorry?"

"No," Melvin said without looking up.

Ryou shook his head. "I mean, I'm not sure what, well, you mean."

Melvin finally looked up, forehead tight with confusion. "You aren't making any sense, crumpet."

"You're killing people," Ryou said.

"Yes."

" _With_ the internet."

"Yes."

"What does that mean? Are you paying people off? I don't..."

Melvin laughed. "Don't be absurd, crumpet. It would be like paying someone to eat for you."

Ryou went quiet. Part of him whispered that they shouldn't have this conversation. He was scratching the surface of things he shouldn't touch. A different part of him almost needed to find some point where he'd misinterpreted Melvin's words. Like a text-based role playing game of some kind, or... That explanation sounded weak and implausible, but was it more implausible than Melvin knowing enough about the internet to kill people with it? Ryou didn't know. Maybe he shouldn't know...

"I'm surprised how easy it is, really," Melvin continued casually in between typing and reading. "So many people that want to die. Groups of them hanging out in one place or another. All I need to do is get one alone and give them a nudge or two. If I'm lucky, the thing holding them back is not wanting to die alone. Then they let me watch. For 'moral support.'" Air quotes followed by a giggle.

"I... see..." Ryou said softly. Nausea crawled up the back of his throat. He swallowed it.

"Obviously it's not as viscerally satisfying as the hands-on, old fashioned way, but it is satisfying in its own way." He closed the laptop, and then cocked his head at Ryou. "You have that look on your face."

Ryou wasn't sure what to say. He'd forgotten- No, he'd ignored this aspect of Melvin. It didn't fit with what he wanted to be true. "What look?"

"You tell me. It's your face."

Staring into the unblinking eyes, Ryou's discomfort grew with each passing second. He forced a smile and twirled his hair around his finger. "I'm not sure what you mean. But if you're, um, done, I'll go get the movie ready." Change the subject, get through the night, figure out a way to contact Marik in the morning. And... hope that Melvin wasn't... listening or whatever 'riding along' meant... Ryou gulped as he headed toward the door. Over his head. Way over his head. Bugger, bugger, bug-

His shirt pulled tight across his chest and he suddenly found himself nose to nose with Melvin. The violet eyes darted.

"That's your thinking about running away face," Melvin said as though coming to a sudden realization.

"Hang- hang on..." Ryou stammered. "I never-"

"You came to me, marshmallow. After our first little spat."

Ryou thought about testing the grip Melvin had on his shirt, but decided struggling might fire Melvin up more. "I know..."

"I make you uncomfortable."

Ryou flinched.

"Are you stupid or just naive?"

"I-"

"Because all the pain and fear goes right out the window as soon as I start playing with your dick." Melvin pouted reflectively. "Maybe you're just a slag... Is that what all that sex doll stuff you were babbling about meant?"

"You forced yourself on me!" Ryou finally protested. "That first time. I tried to run away..."

"But in the end you fucking loved it _and_ came back for more," Melvin grinned.

Ryou shuddered and looked away.

Melvin's eyelids drooped. "I see. You're disgusted with me now..."

"I didn't say-" Ryou yelped as Melvin pinned him to a wall.

"I wonder," Melvin purred, "how disgusted." He shoved his hand down the front of Ryou's pajama pants. No preamble. No warning. Straight for the goods.

"Please don't..." Ryou squirmed. Melvin's touch made his skin crawl. Who knew what was going on in that sick head of his. Ryou didn't know. He'd never known. He never should've asked. He should've gone downstairs and made popcorn while he waited for Melvin to finish and continued pretending that everything could be okay.

"Make me stop," Melvin leered.

Ryou whimpered as his cock responded to Melvin's insistent kneading.

"If you don't want it, make me stop."

"I don't want to..." Ryou whined. No matter what Melvin said, 'making' him stop sounded like a trap. Dangerous.

"Don't want to stop?" Gripping the pale cock with one hand and the pale neck with the other, Melvin turned and pushed Ryou toward the bed.

"I can't make you stop," Ryou said.

"Sounds like _your_ problem, snowflake." Melvin lifted Ryou by the waist and tossed him onto the mattress. Then he pounced on top of him.

Ryou squirmed under the heavier body. He couldn't properly enjoy the kissing and nipping and grinding this time.

Sure, the Spirit had committed his fair share of murders, but they always had a purpose. Murder was a liability that could draw unwanted attention to himself. A necessary tool, sometimes an unavoidable side affect, but always something to be used responsibly.

For Melvin, murder was a toy. Ryou _was_ disgusted by that realization.

Melvin sat up, straddling Ryou's hips. He brushed Ryou's bangs off his forehead. "They never end well," he said dully.

Ryou bucked, trying to get out from under Melvin. Melvin's thighs squeezed, gripping Ryou's hips and pinning him in place.

Melvin leaned to get something out of Marik's night stand as he spoke. "Catherine has to put down Stargher, Kramer has to put down Amanda, society rips Cheryl away from Carver, Marie rips apart Alexia's life and winds up in a loony bin..."

It took a moment for the names to sink in. By the time Ryou realized he meant the movies they'd watched, Melvin had fished out the cuffs. The cuffs that had come to mean he was planning on doing something he knew Ryou would find particularly objectionable. Ryou put his hands behind his back and pushed, sliding out of Melvin's pin with a surge of determination. Rolling, he made it to the edge of the bed before his head jerked back sharply. He clawed at the fingers tangled in his hair. His long, grabbable hair. 

Melvin pulled Ryou to him, and then kept pulling until the brown eyes watered. "Yes," he hissed. "It's  _so much better_ when you try to escape."

Ryou closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the violent excitement twisting Melvin's face. "I don't want to be cuffed!"

"I noticed." Melvin climbed on Ryou's back and grabbed for one of his wrists.

Ryou hid his arms underneath his body. "No!"

They grappled and struggled, Melvin's fists brutally tight on Ryou's arms as he tried to subdue him. Ryou squeezed his eyes shut, tense with exertion.

"I said stop, you loony wanker!" He finally screamed in frustration. "This isn't a game! I don't want to do this anymore! I want you to _leave me alone_!" In the next instant, he heard a resounding smack and the whole left side of his face went numb. He yelped and his eyes flew open.

Melvin didn't move. His irises vibrated in his wide eyes, like a slow computer trying to load the correct response. Ryou stared back. Melvin had never hit him before. The proof that he was willing to left Ryou in a state of stunned uncertainty.

"Gods fuck it," Melvin finally growled, face contorting with frustration. Hoisting Ryou by the front of his shirt, he turned and slammed him into the pillows. Then he straddled Ryou's chest, pinning Ryou's forearms with his knees so that he could use both hands to wrestle one of the narrow wrists into a cuff.

When Ryou  _tried_ to use his free hand to stop him, Melvin smacked it away with the same force he'd applied to Ryou's face. Once Melvin secured one wrist to the headboard, the other followed easily. Ryou whimpered, squirming in his bindings. "No! Let me go!  _Please_ let me go!"

"Shut up!" Melvin's eyes flashed as he raised his hand again. When Ryou cringed, Melvin took a long, slow, deep breath to steady himself. The hand lowered to grip Ryou's jaw gently instead, turning the pale face side to side as he examined it. "It will be okay in a couple of days, I think." He planted a kiss on Ryou's forehead. "I'll be back much sooner than that." He left the room.

Couple of days?

Ryou tugged at the cuffs, twisting his wrists in an attempt to reach the buckles with his fingers. Useless.

Melvin couldn't leave him here for a couple of days. The idea was crazy! Of course, Melvin was also crazy... Just crazy enough to try it... And there wasn't anything Ryou could do. The Spirit might know how to escape, but he needed the Ring to open their connection.

The Ring. The longer Melvin remained absent, the more Ryou worried about the Ring. What if Melvin confiscated it and decided he'd rather not give it back?

Marik! Marik had to surface eventually. Yes! That was his out. Just hang in there until Marik regained control. Ryou thought he could manage that, as long as Melvin didn't wind up drowning him first.

The first thing that he noticed when Melvin walked through the door was that at some point he'd stripped naked. Ryou bit his lip. The lean muscles were almost beautiful, except that slinking around in the buff made Melvin look even more feral than usual. He gulped and glanced away quickly. As such, he didn't notice the clear plastic bag until Melvin crawled up his legs. He heard it rustling above his head as Melvin kissed him. He whimpered against Melvin's mouth and pressed his head harder into the pillow, realizing what was about to happen.

"Poor crumpet," Melvin cooed. "Hostage of the big, mean psychopath. You must be so scared..."

Ryou shook his head as Melvin forced the bag over it. "Please don't do this." There was an edge of a sob to his voice. Hands slipped around his neck. Not tight enough to strangle, but tight enough to seal the opening. The plastic sucked against his mouth when he tried to inhale and pushed his wet, hot breath back at him when he tried to exhale.

Melvin pressed light kisses to each part of Ryou's face, watching him through the plastic, purring contentedly as Ryou bucked underneath him. After what felt like several minutes, but was probably more like several seconds, he lifted the edge enough for Ryou to take an explosive breath through his mouth.

Ryou didn't even bother begging this time. It was a waste of breath. Precious, precious oxygen.

Melvin worked Ryou's shirt up under his arm pits, and then yanked his pants off his legs. One hand clamped over Ryou's nose and mouth as the other groped at his chest. Fingers circled and flicked and tugged at Ryou's nipples. When the narrow chest spasmed, he let Ryou breathe again.

Things went on in a similar fashion for a while. Melvin pulled the bag over Ryou's face, and then pawed and rubbed and fondled him while Ryou struggled for air. He found that if he exhaled hard enough, he could force the plastic away from his face enough to get little snatches of oxygen, but not quite enough. His head swam. His chest burned. A mixture of condensation, sweat, and tears plastered his hair to his cheeks and forehead. But each time he thought he was going to pass out, the bag moved and cool, delicious oxygen washed across his jaw and filled his lungs.

By the time Melvin lubed both of them up for the main event, Ryou had lost track of how long this had been going on. "I feel dizzy," Ryou half moaned, half cried as Melvin filled him.

"Don't pass out. You'll miss the best part."

He fucked Ryou until Ryou's breath evened out, or at least as even as the little sobs could be, and then slowed to an almost gentle pace.

"Come on, snowflake," Melvin rasped. "Hold a good one for me."

Ryou puffed out his stomach and chest. A hand at his throat sealed the bag at his neck again. He could see the shape of Melvin through the foggy plastic. Felt him re-situate and carefully angle his thrusts toward an internal spot that made euphoric fire works fill Ryou's vision. Or was that the suffocation? He didn't fucking know anymore. He jerked at the restraints and clawed at the sheets and writhed under Melvin, but he didn't know if it was the pain in his chest or the pleasure in his prostate or the fear begging him to free himself, free himself, free himself now!

Then fresh air poured into his laboring lungs and he came to the realization that Melvin had started jerking him at some point. He cried harder when he realized that he was probably going to cum. He shouldn't have liked it. He shouldn't have liked any of it. But his tired, confused body just wanted to fucking finish. And eventually it did.

He was too emotionally and physically beaten to register exactly when Melvin finished. All he knew was that Melvin was on him, and then, slowly, he wasn't. He did feel the mattress dip. He did feel the cool, damp wash cloth cleaning his burning, sticky face. Ryou sniffled, trying to get the hitch in his breath under control. With the cleansing came the hope that it was all over.

When Melvin moved away without freeing him, he almost started crying again.

Melvin picked up the laptop and settled into bed next to Ryou. "I don't feel like continuing Saw right now. What else should we watch?"

Ryou glanced at the clock. 4am. He looked at Melvin. "I, um..." He sniffed. "I'm supposed to go to sleep in an hour... So the body isn't too tired when I give it back...?" He awaited Melvin's response with wide, hopeful eyes.

Melvin's head turned slowly toward him. Then it turned slowly toward the clock. Melvin set the laptop on Ryou's stomach, stood up, and calmly unplugged the clock. Holding it by the cord, he walked across the room, and then whipped the clock against the wall with all his might. Over and over. Until bits of plastic flew off. Grunting and growling with the effort.

Ryou cringed and averted his eyes.

When Melvin returned to his spot cuddled up against Ryou, he smiled and said, "Your head is still a little foggy, isn't it? Don't worry. I'll pick something." He clicked around until he managaged to pull up an alphabetical listing of the horror titles. "Let's see... ABCs of Death... collection of short films... Oh, that should be easy enough for you follow, right?"

Ryou stared at Melvin as he started the movie. That confirmed it, then. Melvin wasn't going to give him the Ring. He wasn't going to let him go. Ryou gulped. Real fear wasn't nearly as fun as fake fear.

 


	8. Misery

Ryou woke up on top of a purple sheet. Blinking blurriness from his eyes, he pushed himself up and looked around. His pants were still off, but he was free. The empty leather cuffs still dangled from the headboard. The canopy was closed around the bed, but he could see that he was alone in the room. He immediately left the bed and tried the door. The knob turned, but it felt like something was holding the door shut from the other side. When he jerked the door hard, he heard a jingle. He couldn't, however, seem to open it.

Eyes wide, Ryou turned to survey the rest of the room. There was no laptop on the desk. There was food, though. A plate of cold scrambled eggs next to a glass of orange juice. A soggy cup of instant noodles and a cup of tea, both cold as well. Ryou started searching the room for the laptop or a cell phone, but his efforts were interrupted by another jingling sound in the hallway.

Melvin's head appeared around the door. "I thought I heard you." He jerked his head toward the bed. "Sit down and keep your hands where I can see them."

"What are you doing?" Ryou asked.

"I thought it would be nice to let you walk around. Was I wrong?"

Ryou sat, albeit slowly.

Melvin disappeared into the hall and reappeared carrying a muffin and a glass of milk. He pressed the door closed with his back, and then set the dishes on the desk with the rest of the food. "You can eat if you want," he said.

Ryou didn't feel like eating yet. He was still figuring out the situation. "How long was I asleep?"

Melvin shrugged. "A while." He cocked his head. "How's your face?"

It hurt a little when Ryou pressed it with his fingers. "Sore, I guess."

Bracing his hands on the bed, Melvin leaned close. His breath smelled like coffee. "It's less red. More purple." He traced the pale skin between the streaky, finger-shaped bruises. "You really do turn the prettiest colors."

Ryou took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I called you a..." he blushed and averted his eyes, "...loony wanker... I didn't _mean_ it..."

Melvin grinned. "Why not? I am a loony wanker. Positively certifiable."

Ryou frowned, eyebrows pulling together. "Then why did you slap me?"

The grin disappeared. "I wasn't sure what else to do."

Ryou licked his lips nervously. "Melvin..." He studied the blank expression for any warning signs as he asked, "Why did you lock me in here?"

Sure enough, even though his tone remained neutral, Melvin's irises twitched. "Why does it matter?"

Ryou picked his next words carefully. "I'm trying to figure out what to tell the Ring Spirit. I have to explain bruises and a missing... day...?" He didn't know how long it had been, but two missed meals suggested about a day.

"Biscuit..." Melvin smiled and cupped Ryou's face. "Don't worry. You won't have to explain anything."

The reassuring smile should have been a relief, but something about the words dropped a big, fat rock right in the pit of Ryou's stomach. "Bruises take several days to heal. He'll notice."

Melvin shook his head. "You won't have to explain anything," he repeated, stroking Ryou's uninjured cheek with his thumb. "I'll make sure of it."

A single question burned on Ryou's tongue. Where was the Ring? It was possible that Melvin meant he intended to keep Ryou imprisoned in this room indefinitely. It was equally possible he'd found and taken the Ring. On the heels of that question, where was Marik? But even that seemed like a question that could anger Melvin. "And Marik is okay with this?"

The grin widened and turned into a laugh. "Fuck Marik. Nothing Marik did ever mattered, anyway." Melvin pulled out the desk chair and situated it between the door and the rest of the room. He sat straddling the back of it, chin resting on his crossed forearms, as though guarding the exit. He watched Ryou with a tiny smile and half-lidded eyes. Unmoving. Just watching.

Ryou let the silence descend, unsure what to do with himself. He started by slipping off the bed and stepping into his pajama pants. Melvin kept watching, like a content cat. Ryou ate the cold eggs and the muffin, drank the tea and the milk, neatly stacked the dishes on the desk, torn between ignoring Melvin and staring back, all under that lazy gaze. "Did you want something?" He finally asked nervously.

Melvin shook his head. "Nope. Not a thing." His head lolled to one side. "Everything I want is right here."

Before yesterday, those words would've made Ryou's heart flutter with excitement. But the tone and the body language clearly indicated that Melvin had no intention of letting Ryou leave this room. Instead, Ryou felt a flutter of fear. He started to stand, if only to distract himself by exploring Marik's room.

"No," Melvin said.

Ryou froze, half-standing, startled.

"Sit," Melvin said.

Ryou sank to the mattress, fidgeting nervously with his hair. "I don't under-"

"By the wrath of the gods, snowflake, park your ass and shut your trap."

Ryou's mouth snapped shut. Melvin resumed his passive staring. Ryou waited for something, anything, to happened, but nothing did. Maybe it was some new kind of torture. Psychological. Melvin wanted to watch him worry about all the terrible things that might happen. Watch him wonder if the rule about leaving marks still applied. It might not, if Melvin intended to hold him hostage forever.

But... but he couldn't! Marik was still a randomizing factor. Unless he'd done something to Marik. Locked him in his soul room somehow, like the Spirit used to lock up Ryou. Thinking about it, Ryou realized Melvin had spoken about Marik in the past tense. That couldn't be good.

Or maybe it was another physical torture. The forced immobility settled into Ryou's muscles and joints. How on earth did Melvin still look so relaxed and comfortable? How long would Melvin make him sit still?

Long enough for nature to call, at least. Ryou set his jaw. Melvin _looked_ calm, but he'd snapped so quickly from 'you can eat' to 'don't move.' And why? What was his game? What was he _doing_?

Maybe fifteen more minutes passed. Maybe thirty more. Forty five? Eventually Ryou didn't have a choice.

"I need to use the loo," Ryou whispered, as though softening his voice would soften the blow of Melvin's irritation.

"Hold it," Melvin said.

"I have been," Ryou protested.

Melvin growled and tugged at his hair, thinking. Then he scooted the wheelie chair closer. It might have looked comical if he weren't so distractingly intimidating. He leaned close to Ryou's face. "Then kiss me."

Cringing, Ryou gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Don't be pathetic, biscuit," Melvin growled.

Ryou groaned. There wasn't any time for this! He pressed his parted lips to Melvin's and slipped his tongue tentatively between the dangerous teeth. He gave Melvin's tongue a couple of strokes before withdrawing with a yelp when Melvin nipped at him. Though it was more from the fear of pain than actual pain.

Melvin scooted back a foot or two and rested his chin on his arms again. This time he looked more sullen than peaceful. Ryou stood slowly, and then darted into the bathroom, closing the door. By the time he came out, Melvin was gone.

 

A more thorough circuit of the room revealed what he'd expected; Melvin had removed any means of communication with the outside world. Ryou thought about trying the door again, but that sound must've been some sort of alert Melvin set up. He'd seemed to write off Ryou's first attempt to leave, but there was no guarantee he'd be so generous about a second attempt. Ryou had just sat down to contemplate his options when he heard the jingle.

Melvin showed up carrying a box of pizza with the laptop balanced on top. He grinned at Ryou as he placed both items on the bed. Then he sauntered over, grabbed the collar of Ryou's shirt, and yanked him into a kiss. His mouth continued on to kiss each of the four bruises and graze his teeth across Ryou's neck.

Ryou's hands squeezed Melvin's waist, if only to resist the urge to push him away. Because telling Melvin to leave him alone had gone _so well_ last time. If not for the insult, then Melvin must've hit him for that. When the hand in his shirt yanked him toward the bed, he braced for the worst. To his surprise Melvin merely pulled him into his lap, situated in the same manner they'd been when watching Saw 3. Laptop in Ryou's lap. Pizza box off to one side.

Melvin opened the computer, revealing a movie already full-screened and ready to go. Stephen King's Misery. Ryou hadn't really been able to get into the book. He preferred supernatural horror. Normally he thought ghosts and monsters were more frightening than mundane things like mentally unbalanced people or rabid dogs, seeing as how he didn't have the luxury of convincing himself that demons, monsters, and evil spirits didn't exist. He knew otherwise. However, enveloped in Melvin's embrace, Ryou found himself empathizing with Paul Sheldon's plight.

Melvin grabbed a slice of pizza, folded it in half, and took a bite. "Have you seen this?" He asked.

"I read the book," Ryou answered in a low voice.

"Book?" Melvin swallowed. "Is it any good?"

Ryou bit his lip. "It was pretty scary..." At least no one in the house owned a blow torch. He hoped.

"Mm."

As time wore on, Ryou found himself paying more attention to every shift of Melvin's body than the movie. The arm wrapped across his stomach felt more like a trap than ever. Perhaps it had never been anything but a trap. Perhaps Melvin had needed a victim on which to act out his more physical desires and every affectionate gesture had been carefully calculated to lull Ryou into a false sense of security. Get him to be careless with the Ring. That would explain Melvin's incongruities.

But he had Ryou now. Why continue forcing the movie ritual?

"Aren't you hungry?" Melvin asked when the movie ended.

Ryou shook his head.

"You won't get another chance before breakfast," Melvin said.

"I'm not hungry," Ryou said.

The tips of Melvin's fingers pressed into the soft flesh of Ryou's belly. "Fine," he growled. "You better not whine about it later. I gave you a chance."

"I've no intention of whining," Ryou murmured honestly. Fingers tightened in his hair and yanked his head back.

Melvin's eyes shone with intensity. "Smart ass."

Ryou heard Melvin kick the laptop and the rest of the pizza onto the floor as he dragged Ryou under him. His stomach knotted when Melvin grabbed a wrist and forced it toward the head board. "Listen," he begged. "I'll be good. Whatever you want. Just don't tie me up again."

"I don't want you to be good," Melvin hissed. "I want you to be afraid. If you're being _good,_ you're not being _afraid,_ are you?"

"I'm being good _because_ I'm afraid. Isn't that enough?"

Surprisingly, Melvin's expression softened into an amused smile. "Biscuit..." He took Ryou's head between both hands. "Crumpet..." His thumbs stroked Ryou's cheeks. "My little marshmallow snowflake..." Their foreheads pressed together. "I _know_ you. You're _much_ more afraid when you know you _can't_ leave. So," his voice lifted lightly, almost chipper, "give me your wrists before I decide to make the right side your face match the left. We've gone this far. What's one more bruise in the grand scheme of the universe? Or two? Or even three?" His eyes flicked down and a finger traced Ryou's windpipe. "Maybe I'll see how hard I can squeeze before your beautiful skin turns purple."

Tears stung the corners of Ryou's eyes as his arms went limp. He would bet anything that Melvin loved it.

Melvin buckled Ryou's wrists into place. "I need to get a few things," he smiled, gently combing Ryou's hair out of his face. "Just sit tight and think about how mean I'm going to be."

He left Ryou with a kiss burning on his forehead and tears burning on his cheeks. No longer hesitant to leave marks. What was Melvin going to do? What was the bloody buggering loony toon going to do?!

When Melvin returned carrying an empty milk jug and a baggy of leftover ginger, a dizzying concoction of puzzlement, relief, and suspicion flooded Ryou. The ginger had been uncomfortable, but not nearly as bad as the drowning or the suffocation.

Melvin grinned as he set the jug on the floor. "You look relieved. Are you happy to see your old friend?"

Ryou didn't dare to answer. If he got cocky, Melvin would escalate. Best not to encourage him. In the end he was glad he kept his mouth shut. Once Melvin finished undressing Ryou, as much as he could at any rate, he reached behind his back and pulled out a butcher knife.

Melvin laughed at Ryou's expression. "What's with the face, crumpet? What do you think I'm going to do?"

"I..." Ryou swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. "I'm not sure..."

Melvin cocked his head. "You realize that if I was going to kill you I could have done it..." He looked at the ceiling as he counted on his fingers, "five or six different ways by now. Depends on if you think stabbing and slicing are different. I think they are."

Ryou shook his head slightly. "I really have no idea what you're going to do. That's why I'm so scared."

Holding the knife, Melvin straddled Ryou's legs and squeezed Ryou's hips with his knees. Ryou watched him select a finger of ginger from the bag and carve it into a long, thin stick. Then he wrapped a firm fist around Ryou's cock and let a drop of spit fall on the tip.

"Don't squirm too much," Melvin warned. "If we lose it, it could be hard to get it back." With surprisingly patient precision, he began inserting the ginger into Ryou's urethra.

The burning started before it was even half way inside. Ryou gasped, pulling at his trapped wrists. He couldn't wriggle and he could barely buck. Between his legs and his fist, Melvin had Ryou firmly under control. Blast and curse anything and everything...

"Mm..." Melvin's form was relaxed, his expression content. "How would you say the pain compares?"

"To what?" Ryou asked. It was better than having Melvin control his access to oxygen, but that bar was already so low.

Melvin's eyes widened. "Oh, I know! We'll compare directly." He shifted off of Ryou and pushed Ryou's knees up to his chest. Then he straddled Ryou again, facing Ryou's ass, pinning Ryou in a tight ball.

Ryou turned his head to keep Melvin from outright sitting on his face. He couldn't move. Even when he felt flat, cold metal ghost threateningly across his balls all he could do was cry out and shiver. The reaction earned a familiar cackle.

"Poor, helpless snowflake," Melvin said as he started skinning a new piece of ginger. "I could be as mean as I wanted with you like this. All you could do is scream."

Struggling for each even breath, Ryou tried to convince himself that Melvin was only teasing. The dull tone could mean anything without an expression for context. His breath hitched as Melvin inserted the root into his rectum, body braced for the pain. Knowing what was coming didn't help much, though. "My bum..." he winced.

"What about it?" Melvin asked, one hand playing idly with Ryou's balls.

"The ginger in my bum hurts more," Ryou clarified. He wondered if Melvin was still holding the knife.

"Interesting," Melvin said. The dull edge of the blade stroked up and down Ryou's shaft.

Ryou whimpered as his muscles tightened around the burning butt plug. There it was. The knife. Definitely still had the knife.

"I would've thought such a sensitive organ would hurt more." Still stroking.

Ryou gulped. "It only hurts more when I, um... you know..." he blushed, "clench..."

Melvin chuckled. "I see. Like this?"

Something sharp poked Ryou's testicles, pressing incrementally harder. Oh, boy, did he clench. Though the ginger in his ass was as far from his mind as it could be at the moment. "No! No, no, please, no!"

Giggling, Melvin stopped short of breaking skin, but he didn't move the blade. "You are the cutest little crumpet. I should've come down to say hi months ago."

Ryou clenched his fists, trying not to squirm. Whether or not Melvin intended to draw blood, one wrong move might accidentally do it for him. But it hurt! It hurt so much and there was nothing he could do to make Melvin stop.

As soon as Melvin moved off, Ryou clamped his knees together, trying to protect himself. He'd endure the intensified burning. He didn't want knife-wielding Melvin anywhere near his goodies.

"Mm..." Melvin's head lolled to the side. " _Please_ tell me that I'll have to tie up your legs as well," he grinned. "I so _love_ seeing the helpless terror in those doe eyes."

Ryou stretched out very slowly. Tied up or not didn't matter too much when all was said and done, but Melvin had been right about the pure helplessness making everything worse.

"Fine then," Melvin pouted. "Buzz kill." He settled between Ryou's legs and gave his cock a couple strokes as he leaned toward it.

Ryou shuddered as Melvin's lips wrapped around his knob and slid down his shaft. Then Ryou cried out in surprised pleasure when Melvin gave him a good, hard suck as he drew off.

Melvin licked his teeth, stroking Ryou's cock. "What do you feel most? The pleasure," his fist squeezed, "or the pain?"

Much like his rear, the burning sensation flared as Melvin's grip tightened. Ryou's face flushed and his eyes watered. Even the good felt bad, because even after _all the shit_ Melvin had done to him, he could still force Ryou's body to respond favorably. Part of Ryou was too relieved for any reprieve from the pain and fear to care where the reprieve came from. It wanted Melvin to suck him. Stroke him. Drown out the fire. "It all hurts," he whispered.

"Mm," Melvin growled, eyes dipping. "Good answer, biscuit." He leaned across Ryou to get the lube from Marik's night stand.

The cool liquid almost soothed the tingling heat as Melvin used the plug of ginger to paint Ryou's back entrance. Circling the tight ring of muscle. Occasionally dipping inside. It wasn't nice, but it was tolerable. Ryou would've closed his eyes and cowered until it was over, but the feeling of Melvin's mouth engulfing his member caused him to arch off the bed. His swelling erection screamed on the inside, but the discomfort was no match for the talent of Melvin's bizarre tongue. Even when Ryou cried because the semen leaking around the blockage in his urethra stung, his body writhed and undulated in orgasm.

Melvin kept sucking until he finally sat up and spat the piece of ginger onto the floor. He grinned at Ryou as he finished stripping. Then he grabbed Ryou's hips and pulled them into his lap. Barely lubricated, the rest of the experience was only pain as Melvin ravaged him.

 

The naked lunatic rolled onto his side, curling around Ryou's body like a koala. He clung like that for a long time, head on Ryou's chest, hair in Ryou's face. Ryou stared at the ceiling, thoughts dashing from one question to another. With the adrenaline high fading, he found himself drifting into unconsciousness.

The body next to him jerked upright.

Ryou's eyes opened, confused, and then cautiously hopeful.

The wild eyes and blank expression were undeniably both still Melvin.

Ryou's heart sank.

Melvin patted Ryou on the stomach, and then leaned over the edge of the bed, where he'd left the jug. He sat up holding a length of thin, flexible tubing. After applying a liberal amount of lubricant, he grabbed Ryou's cock.

Ryou stared, too exhausted to struggle. "I don't understand why you're doing this..."

He hadn't expected an answer, but Melvin actually spoke. "So you don't have any accidents, crumpet. Obviously." He shot Ryou a smile as he carefully inserted the makeshift catheter. "Don't worry. I won't mind emptying the jug. I'm very comfortable with all kinds of bodily fluids." His lips pressed briefly to Ryou's.

"Empty the... How long are you planning on leaving me here?"

"Long?" Melvin looked confused. "There's no long. Just you and me and... this. For... always."

Ryou finally panicked. "What about the Ring? Marik? Bakura? Marik can't just be gone. Where is he?"

Melvin closed his eyes and shook his head all through Ryou's frantic string of questions. "You don't _need_ to get yourself so worked up, crumpet. I've got this. For both of us. It's going to be okay."

Ryou was speechless. Melvin finished setting up the catheter, gave Ryou a final kiss, and left the room. Left Ryou. Stuck, baffled, hopeless Ryou. He'd never missed Bakura so much in his life.

 


	9. Let the Right One In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to reiterate the warning/disclaimer than I write deathshipping kind of fucked up, and this resolution is kind of fucked up from a certain point of view. But we all know not to look to Melvin for relationship advice, right?

Ryou awoke from a restless, uncomfortable slumber with sore shoulders. The first thing his brain registered was the bronze coil of muscles hunched at the end of Marik's bed. Melvin sat with his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees, watching Ryou intensely through his wild bangs. He wore nothing but underwear. The knife rested loosely in his fist. His other hand was curled around something too small for Ryou to make out.

A smile grew on his face. "Hello, biscuit."

"Hi, Melvin," Ryou said nervously. He tugged at his wrists and found them still tightly secured. His hands had even fallen asleep.

Melvin chuckled. "Don't worry. It's not for you."

Ryou tore his eyes away from the weapon and focused on Melvin. It was hard to tell with the way he hunched, but Ryou thought he could see little triangular burns on Melvin's chest. "What happened?"

"It helps me stay awake."

When Ryou's eyes widened, Melvin just laughed again.

"It's okay. I don't mind." He dropped the lighter on the mattress. Then he put his hand on Ryou's ankle. "It's fine. I'm fine, we're fine, everything is fine."

The gesture was maybe supposed to be reassuring, but Ryou had to fight the urge to pull his foot away. "Why do you need to stay awake?"

Melvin looked confused. "You don't know?"

Ryou sighed. "I didn't sleep well last night. Help me out a little."

"If I fall asleep things will start moving again. If things start moving again, something bad will happen, so I have to stay awake."

Moving again... Did that mean Marik would come back? So maybe he could wait Marik out. But if Melvin was willing to injure himself to delay Marik's return, there was no guarantee what state the body would be in. Melvin did rash things when he got desperate. Ryou couldn't rely on the others to save him. He'd have to find his own way out. "Bad how?" Ryou pressed carefully.

Melvin growled and threw his hands out to his sides. "I don't know! Bad! Bad stuff always happens at the end!" He took a long, slow, deep breath and lowered his hands into his lap. "If I stay awake, I can stop our pesky parasites from ending everything."

Ryou pressed his lips together, thinking. "Okay..." He forced a smile. "Well, I can promise you that we're both on the same page as far as not wanting things to end badly."

Melvin smiled. "Wonderful! So you understand why things have to stay like this." He rubbed Ryou's leg. "You really are a sweet little crumpet."

Ryou looked up at his hands and flexed them. "Right. Since we're on the same page, do you think you could take the cuffs off? I can't feel my hands." He felt Melvin's grip on his ankle tighten. When he looked down, he saw Melvin's eyes darting side to side as he studied Ryou's face. It was creepy, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Ryou gulped and tried to stay calm. If he let Melvin see him panic, he'd never get anywhere.

"That's not your thinking about running away face." Melvin frowned, but he looked more suspicious or confused than angry.

"I promise I only want to talk," Ryou said.

"So? You're not gagged."

If Melvin didn't already understand, it would be hard to explain, but he had to try. "Mentally... emotionally... it would be easier if I wasn't tied up with a tube..." He trailed off, blushing slightly.

"Mm." Melvin's eyes narrowed lasciviously. "You are rather distracting when you're tied up whining about your hands being numb. I bet your shoulders hurt, too... Not as much as they would if you were hanging, of course..."

Bloody buggering sadist. "If you untie me, I promise it won't end badly."

Melvin's expression hardened. "It won't end _at all._ "

" _Please,_ Melvin. Pretty, pretty, bloody  _please_ with marshmallows on top."

"Nn..." Melvin growled. His grip on the knife tightened until his hand shook. "You're too fucking cute when you beg."

For a moment Ryou thought Melvin was going to accost him again. Melvin let go of the knife and crawled up Ryou's body. Then he sat on Ryou's stomach and leaned to unbuckle his wrists. 

"You better not talk about leaving me again," he muttered. 

Ryou held his hands to his chest, rubbing his wrists. "Um... one more thing?"

Melvin blinked once, and then looked over his shoulder. "Oh." He yanked out the catheter, none too gently.

"Bloody buggering blue biscuits," Ryou yelped, cringing.

Melvin giggled. "Aw, was that mean? Poor snowflake."

Ryou pulled and pushed himself into a sitting position, with Melvin in his lap. Up close, he could count the small burns. Six of them. How on earth could he explain that to Marik? He could act like he didn't know. But Marik would also have to explain them to the Ring Spirit. Was that Ryou's problem? Maybe. His botched handling of Melvin was at least partially responsible. He'd never asked for this, but perhaps he could've been more delicate with the situation presented to him. His eyes wandered up to meet Melvin's gaze. "I don't know what to do with you," he whispered. 

Melvin smirked. "I can think of a few things."

"Long term, Melvin."

The smirked disappeared instantly. "Nobody does. Marik didn't. Florence wouldn't. Not even Odion..." He trailed off. Then he laughed. "But I suppose it makes sense. I am all of things that Marik didn't know what to do with. Why buck the trend?"

Ryou thought of Annie Wilkes and her blues. After all of the ups and downs, he wasn't sure if he should hate the monster, fear the monster, or pity the monster. As much as he wanted to hate or fear Melvin, he knew that Melvin was trying to function with a very narrow range of emotions. That was at the core of the slap, wasn't it? Melvin hated the idea of Ryou leaving and got angry, because fear and sadness weren't options. Bloody hell. If only he could be as easy as the Ring Spirit. His simplicity made him so complicated.

He needed to focus on things one step at a time. He'd gotten Melvin to untie him and maybe start listening to him. Time for step two. He needed to convince Melvin to let him have the Ring so he could start smoothing things over. Right, just  _smooth things over_ . 

Ring first. Ring first.

"Melvin..." Ryou hesitantly cupped Melvin's face in his hands. "Just because all of those movies ended badly, that doesn't mean we can't make our own ending. But..." He took a deep breath and braced himself. "I need you to let me have the Ring."

A switch flipped in Melvin's eyes. "No!" He slapped Ryou's hands away. "No, no, no Florence!" He punctuated each 'no' by punching the headboard, inches from Ryou's head.

Ryou flinched, as much from almost being hit as from imagining the bruise that would be on Marik's knuckles. "Melvin!" He tried to look firm. "I  _want_ to fix this," not entirely a lie, but he'd have to get back to exactly what that meant around step five or six. "We probably still can, but you have to," stop making things worse, "let me try."

Melvin glowered at him. "You won't try to leave?"

"No."

The glare remained. "What are you going to tell him?"

"I..." Ryou sighed. "I honestly don't know." Then he added quickly, "I'll think of something."

"Mmph." Melvin crossed his arms and sat back on Ryou's knees. "If only he were as dense as Marik. The gullible little shit..." Melvin smirked. "'You'" air quotes "asked for ten pounds of ice, and he didn't even question it."

"What did the Spirit say?" Ryou asked. "He must've noticed."

"Marik mentioned it, but Bakura was too busy staring at his ass to think about it. I'm pretty sure he only listens to half of Marik's inane babble. Can't say I blame him. Marik should only open his mouth to suck cock if you ask me."

The last sentence threw Ryou for a moment, but he decided to ignore it. "So if Marik tells him something, he'll dismiss half of it as Marik being Marik, and Marik is easy to trick. I need a story Marik will cooperate with..." Silence settled as Ryou considered his options, staring at a point somewhere between his face and Melvin's chest. Hopefully Marik would be willing to go along with anything that gave those burns time to fade. 

"Why do we have to sort all of this out now?" Melvin suddenly asked.

Ryou focused on his face and saw the now familiar searching expression. "I guess we don't have to, but the longer we wait the harder it's..."

"So you're  _not_ trying to get rid of me in a hurry," Melvin said.

"No," Ryou said, cupping Melvin's face. "No, of course not..."

Melvin pouted. "So prove it. Movie and fuck. Then I'll tell you where I put the Ring."

If that's what it took... Ryou forced a playful smile. "I think the term is Netflix and chill."

"What does chilling have to do with fuck..." He trailed off. "You should see if you can convince Marik to get more ice." Melvin's grin and eyes widened. "I want to fill the whole bath tub."

Ryou flinched and redirected the subject. "Netflix and chill is a euphemism."

"Well it's a stupid euphemism."

What on earth was he ever going to do about Melvin? 

"Horror romance..." Ryou mumbled to himself. His hands fell away from Melvin's face and landed in his lap. Maybe they should watch something with a happier ending. It might help Melvin relax. "Do you like vampires?" Marik did, but Melvin might hate vampires just to spite Marik.

Melvin scowled. "If you suggest Twilight, I'll find out how many of them exist and then slap you once for each." 

Four days ago, Ryou might've dismissed that comment as a joke. Now he knew Melvin might be serious. He hated knowing that. "It might be slower than usual, but I promise you it's nothing like Twilight. It's called Let the Right One In. It's Swedish, but... I mean, you liked High Tension, right?"

"Mm," Melvin tilted his head and leaned closer. "Fine, but I'm going to bite you. Like a marshmallow chew toy."

"No marks," Ryou said. "I've got enough to explain."

Melvin chuckled. "Oh, you'd be surprised how hard a person can bite without leaving lasting marks. Sensitive places. Like the backs of your snowy little arms." He grabbed the sides of Ryou's head and pulled their foreheads together. "Yes. It's going to be so much fun showing you."

Ryou blinked nervously. "Um... now...?"

Melvin sat back. "Movie first. I want to be in the proper mood to enjoy it." He leaned over the side of the bed and picked up the laptop.

"Is it broken?" Ryou asked. For Marik's sake, he hoped it wasn't.

"Dunno. Maybe not. It's not the first time I've pushed it on the floor." He went to the desk to plug it in, waggling the screen a bit as he opened it. "The hinge is cracked." He snorted. "They make these things so fragile. Fucking rip off." The start screen lit up. "Ah, there we go."

He pulled the entire desk closer to the edge of the bed. As soon as Ryou started the movie, Melvin entangled him from behind.

"Is he killing that guy under a lamp right next to the path?"

"He's knocking him out. See? He dragged him into the forest to kill him."

"But there are people coming. Doesn't he hear them?"

Ryou sighed. "Maybe it makes more sense in the book. I don't know."

"How did he not notice that dog sitting two feet away? Who even tries to exsanguinate a body in the middle of a public... Oh my, gods, leave! Grab the jug and... This guy's an idiot. Does he get eaten by a vampire? I hope he gets eaten by a vampire."

It was almost like before everything went south, but Ryou was having trouble getting comfortable again. He'd decided Melvin wouldn't kill him, though whether it was because of an unfortunate obsession or a twisted sense of love, he didn't know. That didn't stop Melvin from being a remorseless danger to everyone else. Even if Ryou pitied him, it would be hard to justify anything like affection.

Melvin shifted onto his side, dragging Ryou with him. Ryou cringed, wondering if Melvin had decided he didn't want to wait out the movie after all. His fingers strummed lightly at Ryou's belly, but he seemed to simply be getting more comfortable. He hoped Melvin would fall asleep, absolve him of his dilemma for a day, but he didn't. 

As the movie moved closer toward its conclusion, Ryou's awareness of Melvin's nearly nude state intensified. He bit his lip. Just get through the bad part, focus on the good part, like he used to, and try to ignore the fact that Melvin would do what Melvin wanted to matter how much Ryou begged and screamed. Though it didn't help that the pool scene tied his stomach in knots, reminding him of what it felt like to drown. To suffocate. 

As Ryou watched the first body hit water, an idea struck him. One of the things that made Eli a sympathetic character in spite of being an inhuman killing machine... If Melvin would go for it... But how to ask? Coming right out and asking seemed like it would cause more mess than it would fix.

As soon as the credits appeared, the hand at Ryou's belly started pulling at the hem of his shirt. 

"Melvin?" Ryou started. 

"I'm not seeing nearly enough skin, snowflake," Melvin purred as he peeled Ryou's shirt over his head.

Ryou shook his head as he disentangled himself. "I wanted to talk about..."

Melvin growled and rolled his eyes. "Why do you always want to talk when I want to fuck?"

Ryou frowned. Probably because Melvin always wanted to fuck. "I... um..." Melvin's teeth were at his neck. He wasn't biting any harder than usual yet, but the knowledge that he was going to start soon made it hard to think. "There's a show... called-" He cried out as the teeth dug in harder. At least Melvin hadn't cuffed him yet. Earlier, Ryou would've thought that Melvin had decided to be merciful, but he wasn't so sure now. More likely Melvin was so excited that he forgot. He bucked under the larger body, fingers scrabbling at Melvin's scars. "AshowcalledDexter," he forced out quickly.

Melvin propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Ryou. "I preferred it when you yelled things like no, please, Melvin, stop," he said flatly. Then he sighed. "This is why I tie you up. You're far too comfortable when you're free."

Ryou flinched. Melvin grinned. Ryou set his jaw and pushed forward before Melvin's lust for the struggle consumed him completely. "It's about a serial killer that only kills criminals..."

Melvin's eyes flicked rapidly as he processed Ryou's words. Then he laughed. "What, like a psychotic superhero?" He laughed harder, letting his face fall against Ryou's chest. "Serial killer man... With the power of sociopathy..." 

"It makes sense in the show," Ryou mumbled.

Melvin smirked at him. "You're a hoot, snowflake. Roll over."

"You wouldn't even consider it?" Ryou asked. "I mean, it's not that absurd, is it?"

"You're assuming I care about guilt or innocence. I killed Marik's father because he was a threat to my existence. Marik is the one that deals with the guilt by telling himself he deserved it. Life isn't fair, death isn't fair. Entropy doesn't discriminate."

"If you don't care, why does it matter?"

"Who's going to tell me who deserves it? You?" Melvin grinned. 

Ryou bit his lip. "If... if that's what it takes, I... could maybe give you a few ideas..."

Melvin cackled. "Oh, this is precious! Anubis and Ammut!"

"So... You'll at least consider it?" Ryou asked uncertainly. 

Melvin gave Ryou the half-lidded smile. "I suppose it could be an acceptable ending. Or at least a fun game to play for a while. Now roll the fuck over already."

Feeling... not great about the situation, but surprisingly better considering, Ryou decided to comply before Melvin forced him. Melvin pinned Ryou's wrists over his head. Then he gave Ryou's tricep a slow, deliberate lick. Ryou buried his face in the mattress when he felt teeth replace the tongue. They tightened incrementally, but Melvin had been right about one thing. It took less than a second for the pressure to reach painful levels. Ryou gasped. Melvin's jaw stopped tightening, but didn't let go. He let Ryou feel the sting, and then scraped his teeth across Ryou's skin as he released him.

"Hm. It's easier to mark you than I thought."

"What?" Ryou tried to turn around, but Melvin used Ryou's hair to pin his head.

"Do you want the Ring?" Melvin asked.

"Yes, but-" Ryou cried out as Melvin yanked his hair.

"Do you want the Ring?" Melvin repeated.

"Yes..." Ryou whimpered. 

"I could still tie you up and leave," Melvin pointed out.

"Okay. Okayokayokayokay!" Ryou's voice rose as the tension on his scalp increased, until he was yelling.

Melvin chuckled and forced Ryou's head back for a kiss. Then he pushed Ryou's face onto the mattress. He traced a line of saliva down Ryou's spine as his hands glided to Ryou's rear. At first Ryou gasped as the hands squeezed and kneaded. It did feel good. But he was braced for pain, and Melvin didn't leave him hanging. He let out a very different gasp when he felt the teeth.

Melvin rubbed at the fresh sore spot, feeling the indentations with his fingers, before shifting to the other side to chew Ryou's thigh. The hand on his bum trailed down and worked its way under his crotch. A fist tightened around Ryou's cock as teeth scraped his leg. Melvin gave reddened the spot a quick lick.

"Over," Melvin breathed, husky and intense.

After last time, Ryou did not like the apparent interest in his genitals, even if at present it felt good. "Why?" He whispered uncertainly. 

"Nn," Melvin growled. "You see why I cuff you, biscuit. That's strike two."

Bugger, bugger, bugger... As Ryou fumbled his way onto his back, which wasn't easy when Melvin refused to let go, he wonder if Melvin would tie him up immediately upon strike three or after strike three. He didn't dare ask, though. Asking would probably be another strike. Then he'd find out the hard way. 

Ryou cringed and squeezed his eyes shut as Melvin's lips encircled his member. They maintained a light suction as they drew upwards, but each descent made Ryou tremble harder. It had to be coming. It had to be. Oh, no... Oh, dear... Oh, bloody, blue, blazing hell...

Melvin gripped Ryou's cock firmly. His head dipped lower between Ryou's thighs. When Ryou felt teeth graze his testicles, he yelped and tried to flinch away reflexively. Melvin's fist squeezed harder, though.

"Going somewhere, snowflake?" Melvin grinned.

"Not there, not there..." Ryou begged, watching him with wide eyes.

Melvin chuckled. "But it's the place that gets the most interesting reaction."

Even technically free, he couldn't crawl away. He whined and hugged himself. 

Melvin's grin and eyes widened. "I know," he said. "Let's see which hurts more. That's always a fun game."

Oh, no... Oh, dear, oh, no, no...

"This..." 

The bite to his testicle was quick and firm, if not as hard as the other bites had been. It didn't take much, though. Ryou cried out, digging his nails into his own shoulders. 

"Or this?" Melvin squeezed the end of Ryou's cock between his teeth, raking them over the sensitive flesh as he drew off. 

Ryou's eyes watered. "I don't know," he moaned unhappily. He was still emotionally and physically stunned from the previous bite. Was Melvin... yes, Melvin was crazy. No need to finish the question.

"I'll show you again." Melvin's head moved down.

Ryou panicked. "My balls!" He cried out, just to say something that might make Melvin stop.

"Are you sure?" Melvin cocked his head. "You didn't seem so sure a moment ago."

"I am! I definitely am! Please!"

"Hm." Melvin cupped Ryou's sack with his free hand and scraped his thumbnail down center line. "Noted."

Ryou wanted to pull away. He wanted to, but he if he tried to pull away, Melvin would make it so that he couldn't pull away. So he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed a sob instead, shivering.

Melvin chuckled, massaging the pale orbs of flesh just hard enough to be threatening. "I bet could dedicate most of a session to torturing these. You're lucky I'm tired." 

He shimmied out of his underwear, and then grabbed Ryou's arms. He pulled Ryou up until Ryou was straddling his lap. He bit at the soft flesh of Ryou's belly, making his way up Ryou's torso until he finally reached the pale pink nipples. Ryou hissed as the cruel teeth played with the sensitive buds. Then he gasped when he felt a slick finger playing at his rear. 

"Sit," Melvin growled against Ryou's chest.

He'd never been on top before. Angling his descent proved tricky. Melvin parted Ryou's cheeks with one hand and guided his own shaft with the other. Ryou appreciated the chance to take his time. He couldn't spear himself the way Melvin liked, but Melvin wasn't in any position to rush the process. 

Ryou's ass bobbed slowly at first, trying to find the particular angle that made this sort of thing feel good. Not to mention one that wouldn't slap his sore testicles against Melvin's pelvis... He eventually found a position leaning back between Melvin's thighs. Bracing his hands on Melvin's slightly raised knees for leverage, he pushed himself up and down faster. Melvin squeezed Ryou's hips and butt, digging his fingernails into the pliable flesh. Ryou whined, but he'd found the spot he liked and he didn't want to lose his rhythm by complaining. 

His neglected erection bounced, swollen and needy. When Melvin didn't stop pinching or scratching at him to tend to it, Ryou took it in his own fist out of sheer frustration. He heard Melvin make an amused sound. Ryou blushed, but he didn't stop. He rocked his hips and pumped his fist until his cum spattered Melvin's abs. Then he braced his hands on Melvin's chest and rode him harder.

Melvin growled, arching into Ryou's body. The fingers clutching Ryou's ass dragged down the pale thighs, leaving bright pink welts in their wake. As Melvin's hands reached Ryou's knees, their grip loosened and they fell limp on the mattress. 

Panting, Ryou opened his eyes to see that Melvin's had slipped closed. Bloody wanker, they weren't done yet! "Ammut?" The attempt at using a pet name sounded stiff and awkward, but Melvin's eyes cracked open. A pair of thin, purple slits. "The Ring..."

Yawning, Melvin crossed his arms over his face. "Mm... toilet tank..."

"What?" Ryou's eyebrows shot up.

Melvin chuckled. "Fucking Florence..." And he was out.

Ryou hopped off the bed and scampered to the door. He paused, and then returned to take his pajamas with him. He didn't think there was anything else that Marik could link to him personally. The less Ryou had to explain, the easier it would be, though he felt bad about leaving Marik with the mess. Waking up after losing control of your body for days was never easy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end. There's going to be an epilogue to wrap up some loose things. Then there's going to be a bonus smut chapter that was SUPPOSED to be the reason I started this whole thing, but got kind of swept aside when the fic decided it wanted to have a plot.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally different mood for a moment here, but I guess TAS Marik has that effect on things.

Ryou was in the kitchen when Marik finally crept downstairs like a bewildered cat.

After fishing the priceless Millennium Item out of his toilet's tank by the soggy string, wrinkling his nose as he'd reminded himself that at least the water in the tank was technically fresh, Ryou had showered himself thoroughly. Being covered in two days worth of sweat, spit, lube, and cum had not been his idea of a good time. He'd spent the rest of the day fidgeting nervously with this or that as he waited for Marik to appear.

Marik froze in the doorway and tucked his hand behind his back. "Oh, um... Ryou?"

Ryou closed his eyes and took a short breath. When he turned away from the sink, he wore his friendliest smile. "Good afternoon, Marik. It's such a relief to see you, I was getting worried."

Marik rubbed his chest through his t-shirt. His eyes shifted toward the window. "Worried? Why?"

"You've been hiding in your room for the last day or two. I thought you might be sick. I was just thinking of bringing up some ginger and camomile tea. Mum used to make it for me when I was sick, and..." He trailed off, thankful for the rather glazed look in Marik's eyes. "Are you sick? You don't look well." Ryou started toward Marik. "Maybe you should go lie down on the couch. I'll get you a-"

Marik pressed his back against the wall, hand still hidden behind him. "No. No, no, I'm fine. I'm..."

Ryou shrugged. "If you insist." He returned to washing the dishes. With his back turned, he heard Marik slip the knife into the knife block, but he didn't comment. He did, however, make a mental note to wash it as soon as Marik left the kitchen.

"You didn't hear or see anyo- I mean, any _thing_ different while I was, um, sick, did you?" Marik asked. 

"Hm..." Ryou actually did take a moment to think about how to answer that. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, I guess. Why?" 

Just as Ryou had hoped, Marik deflected the question with, "No reason, just... um, where's Bakura? Isn't he usually the one up at this time of day?"

"Oh, he's been sulking in his soul room all day," Ryou sighed. Then he paused. "Can you keep a secret, Marik?"

"I am the best secret keeper in all the land," Marik assured. 

Ryou's smile was genuine. He really did sort of like Marik. His enthusiasm was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the Spirit. In a world where they got to spend more time together, they might have been friends. Ryou wiped his hands on a dishtowel. "You cannot tell Bakura I told you this."

Eyes wide with curiosity now, Marik made a lip-zipping gesture. 

Ryou walked over and put his hands on Marik's shoulders. "Bakura is depressed because his birthday is in a few days."

"What?" Marik's eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed in confusion. "He never mentioned that he had a birthday."

Ryou resisted the urge to point out that anyone who had ever lived had a birthday. Instead he remained serious, even tried to look sad. It wasn't hard. He had naturally sad eyes. "He likes to pretend that he doesn't remember. Remembering his old life is very painful for him, you know."

Marik nodded, looking down to the side. "Yeah. I get it. My birthday is depressing, too."

Fortunately, Marik missed the startled flicker in Ryou's eyes. He'd forgotten that about Marik. Oh, dear. At least he didn't have to fake a sad or sympathetic expression, but he didn't know how he would nudge Marik back to the train of thought he'd been trying to get him on, either. Ryou patted Marik on the shoulder, trying to think. "Yeah... That's why I knew I could trust you with this secret. You really do such a good job taking care of him."

"No one should be depressed on their birthday," Marik sighed. Then his eyes lit up and he grabbed Ryou's shoulders. "Oh my gods. We should totally throw him a surprise party!"

"Wait. What? No, we can't-"

"I won't tell him it's for his birthday," Marik rolled his eyes, "but we totally should put together a really nice surprise for him. Like... A pharaoh pinata! And all the steak he can eat! Yes, a barbecue! Does he like bouncy castles? Oh, what am I saying, everyone likes bouncy castles!" 

Ryou just stood there as Marik hugged him.

"Oh, this is going to be so great! He won't be depressed at all by the time we're done!" Marik peered seriously into Ryou's face. "You can keep him away for a couple days while I get it all sorted out, right?"

"Um, well, I..."

"Excellent! I'm going to go find a place to rent a bouncy castle. You figure out the pinata."

Ryou blinked as Marik bounded out of the kitchen. Then he smiled to himself. Marik really was easy to manipulate. Surely the Spirit would be so overwhelmed by whatever crazy scheme Marik came up with that he'd forget all about his host. It had happened often enough before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bonus chapter is going to take a little longer, because it's going to be longer, but it's coming.


	11. Bonus Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, when I started this, it was supposed to just be set up for this scene. I think the toy featured in this chapter is super neat and I wanted to write about Melvin using one on Ryou. So here it is, some bonus smut to close out Movie Night. Thanks for reading.

Ryou sat on the couch, pretending to read while he waited for Melvin to return.

Things had been going surprisingly well for the last few weeks. There had been a period, right at the beginning, where Ryou worried that maybe Melvin wouldn't be so into Ryou's idea. They'd found a sex offender registry online and gone from there. Melvin had agreed upon a middle-aged man from a farther away neighborhood, and then hadn't mentioned it again for several days. He'd gone out for hours at a time almost every night, but he'd never talked about it when he came home, and Ryou had been too afraid to ask.

Then, one night, he'd swept into the living room wearing a crocodile grin and carrying a small cooler. Before Ryou had been able to say anything, Melvin had scooped him over his shoulder and carried him out to the backyard. Ryou had actually gagged when Melvin dumped an oozing heart on the grill, but Melvin had insisted they needed to burn it together.

"I mean, it's not like I can eat it," Melvin had scoffed. "Marik's a vegetarian. Meat makes his body sick."

Ryou had decided that burning a human heart on the grill in the backyard was better than any current alternatives and had gone along with it after that. Bathed in gold and orange light, Melvin had screwed the ever loving hell into him, right there on the lawn. Ryou had decided to keep a blanket or a lounge chair nearby for the inevitable next time. And there had been a second time.

Tonight, Ryou didn't expect a third time. They'd picked the third target, but it was still too early to expect that Melvin was out doing the deed right now. Ryou didn't know if Melvin used the time to observe and plan, or stalk and build anticipation, but he was glad that Melvin wasn't tearing down the list faster than Ryou could make it.

There was, however, a different source of unease tonight. A box sat on the table. A box that had been delivered earlier that day and left with a note from Marik promising he had defended it from Bakura's curiosity. A box addressed to Ryou. A box Ryou had not ordered.

Ryou tried to focus on his book, but his mind chased circles wondering if he should open it or be patient.

"It's here! Wonderful!"

Ryou jumped, but managed to maintain his grip on the book. He took a breath to steady his heart as he looked up at Melvin. Melvin had already pulled a small knife from somewhere on his person. "So it _was_ you," Ryou sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"I don't understand." Melvin's tongue poked from the corner of his mouth as he sawed through the tape.

"You can't keep making weird requests in my name. What if the Spirit opened it?"

Melvin paused to eye Ryou. "He opens your mail? Hmph. Rude..." His gaze wandered off as he opened the flaps. "What am I supposed to do, then? I can't put Marik's name on it."

Ryou couldn't help leaning to peek inside. "You could start by asking me first." All he could see was a black box about the size of a brief case. "Or at least tell me," he muttered when he decided that getting Melvin to ask permission for anything was a lost cause.

Melvin didn't appear to be listening, though. He opened the case a crack, grinned at whatever was inside, and then snapped it shut. The grin remained static as his eyes shifted to Ryou.

Ryou squirmed nervously. "Well? What is it?"

"Patience, biscuit. I need to decide where I want to put you first." His eyes flicked over Ryou, and then wandered to the stairs. "Ah, we haven't done that yet."

Oh, hell, was it some weird sex toy? Was Melvin going to cram a sixteen inch dildo up his ass or something?

Melvin grabbed him by the wrist and swept him into the front hallway. Gripping Ryou's shoulders, glancing between him and the ascending balusters, Melvin nudged him into a spot with his back to the stairs.

"Hm... Uhuh, there." Melvin grabbed Ryou's hair and yanked him into a rough kiss. "Mm..." His forehead pressed to Ryou's. "If you aren't naked by the time I get back, I'll cut them off." He licked the bridge of Ryou's nose, and then bounded upstairs, pausing at the top to watch Ryou take off his shirt. A grin stretched across his face before he disappeared into Marik's room.

Ryou knew he was getting the cuffs. Melvin had Marik's enthusiasm and after all this time Ryou was almost beginning to find certain aspects of it endearing. It was at least nice to have someone so excited to see him all the time. Ryou hugged himself, looking at the living room. If it warranted cuffing him to the staircase, whatever was in that box had to be more involved than a particularly uncomfortable insertion device.

"Give me your wrists."

Ryou looked up and saw Melvin sitting on the stairs. Taking a deep breath, Ryou stretched his arms over his head and let Melvin attach his wrists to a baluster. Now that he had his crumpet right where he wanted him, Melvin took his time descending the stairs. He watched Ryou the entire time, grinning, until he had to break eye contact to retrieve the case from the living room.

He knelt next to the wall across from Ryou, back turned, purposely shielding his actions with his body. Ryou did, however, see him reach over and plug something into the wall. He bit his lip, shifting nervously. A low hum started, and he heard Melvin giggle. A shiver ran through Ryou. In all of the horror movies he'd ever watched, he'd never heard a giggle more chilling than Melvin's.

Melvin turned around holding a black plastic tube with a clear glass tube arcing out the top of it. The glass tube glowed red, like a neon sign. It was the source of the hum. Not a vibrating hum, but something more electrical that put Ryou's nerves on edge.

Melvin bent slightly at the waist to kiss Ryou, tongue probing and stroking until Ryou returned the kiss. Teeth caught Ryou's tongue and pulled, drawing it out of his mouth. Ryou let his tongue hang in the air without being told. His eyes crossed slightly as he watched the bulb at the end of the glass tube descend toward his tongue, unnerved yet curious. Melvin chuckled at the expression.

_Zzt_

Ryou gasped and jerked back. The glass hadn't even touched his tongue. He hadn't been ready for the sudden zap at all.

Melvin giggled again. "How'd that feel?"

Uncomfortable, but not the worst thing he'd ever done. "Like getting flicked really hard by a tiny fire elemental," Ryou said. Melvin seemed to appreciate it when Ryou used more evocative language to describe his pain. He'd gotten the idea when he'd found Melvin reading an infographic of the Schmidt pain index for insect bites like it was some kind of lurid bodice-ripper.

The toy emitted another sharp zapping noise as it passed over Ryou's armpit. Ryou squealed and yanked at his trapped wrist reflexively. Encouraged by the sound, Melvin did the same thing to Ryou's other armpit. "If only I had two. I'd get you from both sides at once." The toy traced a line from Ryou's solar plexus to his belly button. This time the wall stopped him from pulling away. "Nowhere to escape to."

Again, not the worst thing Melvin had done, but as with so many things, the repeated applications were beginning to build on each other.

Melvin licked and sucked Ryou nipple. Then the glass bulb traced very slow circles around it. Always hovering just above the skin. Filling the gap between glass and flesh with beautiful blue arcs. "And that?"

Ryou bit his lip. "Hot tweezers..."

Melvin's eyes lit up. "Ooh, good idea, marshmallow. Let's put a pin in that one."

He pulled Ryou close, nipping and licking his lips and neck. The toy grazed Ryou's butt, causing Ryou's pelvis to hitch against Melvin's with each startled yelp.

"Mm," Melvin hummed. "I think I need a few more things. Hang on, marshmallow," he winked, "I'll be right back."

He tapped Ryou once on the nose with the glowing tube before turning it off and moving around the house to get who knows what. At one point he went upstairs. At one point he walked past carrying a length of rope. He was off in the direction of the kitchen for a while before he returned his direct attention to Ryou.

Melvin wrapped the rope around the banister above Ryou's head, leaving two ends dangling. Then he came down and lifted Ryou's legs onto his shoulders. Ryou recognized his plan before he started tying one of the dangling ends around Ryou's knee. When Melvin finished and stepped back, Ryou hung with his knees up and his legs spread. He squirmed in his bondage. The softness of the leather cuffs helped a little, but he wasn't comfortable.

"Can you close your legs?" Melvin asked, massaging Ryou's balls with one hand.

With enough exertion and effort, Ryou could almost close them, but ultimately he had to shake his head 'no.'

"Wonderful!" Melvin laughed. He picked up the wand and switched it on.

Ryou's breath quickened. He hid his face against his arm, trembling as he wondered which part of his crotch Melvin would start with. His next cry was more from surprise than pain as he jerked his foot away from the hot flick of electricity.

Melvin grabbed Ryou's other foot and drew the tip of the wand up it more slowly. "Gods. If I ever loved anything, it would be watching you struggle." Then he did give Ryou's anus a quick spark. "It just fills me with these warm little bubbles, you know?" The glowing glass bulb kissed the tip of Ryou's knob. Ryou cried out. Melvin purred. "What is that, do you think? The warm little bubbles?" His voice was calm and detached.

"I..." Ryou swallowed, trying to catch his breath. "I don't know. Lots of emotions feel sort of like warm little bubbles."

"Hm. Well that's stupid." He turned off the wand and returned to the case. "What's the point in having different emotions if they all feel the same?"

There was a deeper philosophy to that question than Ryou felt prepared to discuss at the moment, what with being tied up and fearing for his genitals and all. "I couldn't say I know off hand," he mumbled. "I'm sure there is..."

Melvin took off his shirt and meticulously removed each piece of jewelry, still hunched over with his back to Ryou. " _I_ prefer physical sensation. It's much cleaner." 

Ryou sighed. "Then I would guess the bubbles are lust."

Melvin cackled. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

When Melvin rose to his feet and turned around, he had the black handle tucked in his waistband. A cord ran from the top of it, ending at a metal rod attached to his abdomen with electrical tape. He raked his fingers lightly from Ryou's chest to groin. "You feel that?"

"Yes," Ryou breathed. The touch tingled. Not unpleasantly. If he was uncomfortable, it was because Melvin was never pleasant for long and part of him was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Melvin tickled the inside of Ryou's thigh. "Feels sort of nice, doesn't it?" He purred through his plastered on grin.

Ryou decided to be honest. "Um... y-yes... Like... warm bubbles..."

Melvin chuckled. "Warm bubbles..." His statically charged fingers played with Ryou's hardening cock. "But you know I didn't get this to be nice to you."

Ryou shivered. He just wanted Melvin to keep stroking him. If wishes were fishes... "I know," he whispered.

Melvin raised his other hand. Light glinted off the stainless steel paring knife. "Mm." His eyes narrowed, but he didn't stop kneading Ryou's erection. "There's the fear I like to see."

Ryou's chest felt tight. Melvin wasn't supposed to cut him, but he hadn't needed to draw blood to make poking Ryou's testicles bloody hurt. And there was always the chance that Melvin could decide to stop doing what he was 'supposed' to do at any point. Ryou whimpered the usual string of useless protests under his breath as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold still. However, he didn't feel the sting in his balls, or on his foot. Worse, he felt something sharp slice up the back of his thigh. "Wait!" He cried out. "You can't! You're not...!"

Melvin cocked his head. "Not? Not what, biscuit?"

The knife stung the back of Ryou's other thigh. Ryou struggled, trying to pull himself up and away. "Please! Please don't!"

"Don't what, biscuit?" Melvin repeated in the same curious tone.

The knife traced a hot line across Ryou's bum. His eyes watered. "You're not supposed to cut me!"

"Tears! Wonderful!" Melvin cackled. He slashed at the underside of Ryou's foot, watching with wide, intense eyes as the tears fattened and fell.

"I..." Ryou's breath hitched. "If I did something, I'm sorry... Please don't kidnap me again..."

"Oh, this is too good," Melvin groaned. He leaned over Ryou, pointing the knife at Ryou's face. "I," he murmured, "am going to fuck you _so_ hard when I'm done." He straightened, raising the knife in his fist over Ryou's chest.

Ryou screamed and turned his face away as Melvin's fist flashed down. Pain flared from sternum to groin.

Melvin chuckled, mildly amused as he said, "Open your eyes, biscuit."

The sudden shift in his tone caused Ryou to peek hesitantly through one set of white lashes. Melvin stood between Ryou's splayed legs, smirking. Both of Ryou's eyes blinked open as he noticed the startling lack of blood.

"Such a _wonderful_ little toy, isn't it?" Melvin said.

He drew the knife down the underside of Ryou's arm. Ryou struggled, whimpering as he tried to escape the sharp, slicing sensation, but there was no blood. Only tiny, bright sparks. Melvin retraced the same path with the tip of his tongue. Ryou's chest heaved. It's not real. Not real. Not-

He cried out as the knife traced diagonally from his hip to his groin. The cutting wasn't real, but the pain sure was. Ryou panted, shaking his head frantically as Melvin lowered the tip of the knife toward the tip of Ryou's erection. "No," he whimpered. "Nononono- Ah!"

The blade traced the underside of his shaft, between his testicles, and finally down his taint to his asshole. Ryou fought to close his legs, only to be reminded that he couldn't. He went limp when the knife withdrew again, taking deep, hiccuping breaths.

"Such pretty faces," Melvin murmured as he stroked Ryou's wet cheek. "Such pretty, pretty faces..."

Dementedly delighted with his new toy, Melvin played with him for a long time. Ryou fought until he was sweaty and panting, actively trying to get away after a while. The bonds held, however, and Melvin didn't stop tormenting him until Ryou had completely worn himself out.

"Aw, is my little crumpet all tuckered out?" Melvin grabbed Ryou's jaw and shook it slightly. "I'll put some life back in you."

Ryou watched Melvin kneel in front of the case once more. He could only hang from sore wrists and sore legs, sniffling helplessly. It would only be over when Melvin wanted it to be over.

When Melvin approached again, he'd stripped completely and changed the attachment again. Now it was a silvery glass tube with a clear tip. He grabbed the back of Ryou's neck. The touch didn't tingle. Just warm, hard pressure that commanded Ryou's attention. Melvin licked the tube, folding his tongue around it to get it wet, and then lowered it between Ryou's legs.

Ryou gasped when the toy penetrated. Melvin went slow, angling it in a familiarly specific way. Ryou's heart pounded, and then jumped when the first spark hit his prostate. He tried to buck, but bound as he was with Melvin pressed close he didn't have much room for maneuverability. The second spark made him cry out as Melvin worked the node inside of him.

Melvin's thumb caught the bead of precum from the tip of Ryou's cock. It traced firm, slick circles just below the ridge of the head. "Mm. It almost seems like you like this."

Another zap. Another buck. Another moan. The attention to his member had definitely tilted the experience from borderline painful to good. Melvin didn't seem to need an intelligible answer, though. Also a good thing. Ryou didn't think he could give one as Melvin forced his physically exhausted body toward orgasm.

Ryou closed his eyes, but he could feel Melvin watching him intensely. Reading the memorized progression. If he liked letting Ryou finish, it was only because he liked adding one little jab of counterpoint at the height of Ryou's pleasure. He liked the stuttering half moan, half yelp it caused. The same sound Ryou made as a sharp spark accompanied and intensified his ejaculation.

Flushed from chest to ears, Ryou caught his breath as Melvin applied a few drops of lube to his own cock. Sex with Melvin could be a real endurance test when he was feeling particularly enthusiastic. Ryou hoped the body wasn't extra tired in the morning. The Spirit had never mentioned anything about it.

Melvin gripped the sides of Ryou's head, growling as he pressed past the tight ring of muscle. One impatient motion. Ryou tucked his chin against his chest so that Melvin's thrusts wouldn't bang his head against the wall. Though he tried to prop his legs on Melvin's shoulders to take some of the pressure off the ropes digging into his knees, he was too worn out to do much aside from moan and take it.

Melvin's hands eventually wandered to Ryou's ribs, waist, thighs, grabbing and searching for better leverage as he pumped faster. Ryou's back rubbed sweat into the wall. Melvin panted, eyes gleaming. Then glazing. Then closing. Then squeezing as he bit his lip and growled. He pulled out slowly and rammed in fast several more times before he finally stopped. Buried to the hilt. One hand braced against the wall next to Ryou's sore arms.

Ryou lifted his chin. Melvin opened his eyes and grinned. His lips pressed against Ryou's wet, hair-plastered forehead, and then he leaned back to untie Ryou's legs. A gasp puffed between Ryou's lips as his feet touched the floor. His hips popped, pins and needles swarmed, and his knees buckled. He hung from his wrists, trying to grab the baluster with his hands. "Don't let me fall," he begged when Melvin reached for the cuffs. "Don't..."

Melvin chuckled. Ryou felt the rumble in Melvin's chest when the taller body pinned his to the wall. "Poor helpless snowflake," Melvin said, stretching to free Ryou's wrists. "Sometimes I think I could torture you forever." He caught Ryou around the waist and brought him to the couch. "What shall we watch tonight?"

 


End file.
